автор: feria

....
               поетът е храмът на думите
               нож върху воденичен камък

мъртва не бях
мъртва не съм
мъртва ще бъда след дълго
или пък скоро
                                 последно начинание
                                 да променя очакванията
днешните поети са
самотни
и
разочаровани
не мислете за Леопарди
а за овцете между бодилите                                                                                       аз-ът е нещо което го няма

по-късно ще бъдем живи
а може би никога

                                 светът разочарова
                                 или мами

защото всеки път сменя посоката
без да ни каже къде отива
                                                     п
                                                     и
                                                     ш
                                                     а
                                                     с
                                                     м
                                                     р
                                                     а
                                                     к
                                                     а
                                                     т
                                                     а
                                                     к
                                                     а
                                                     к
                                                     т
                                                     о
                                                     т
                                                     и
                                                     р
                                                     и
                                                     с
                                                     у
                                                     в
                                                     а
                                                     ш
                                                     с
                                                     ъ
                                                     с
                                                     с
                                                     в
                                                     е
                                                     т
                                                     л
                                                     и
                                                     н
                                                     а
                                                     т
                                                     а

някой на моето място щеше да ги има
тия любови
които аз никога не успях да имам

                                 мъртви ще чувстваме липсата
                                 на всичко
                                 и
                                 на
                                 нищо