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  • Category: Community Poetry
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spring. cold.

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a boy on a balcony
words hanging of a tree
he fixes his hair
for words in the air
to come to him

his mind is so dry
he wants them to come
to bless him, to free him
because he needs to cry

maybe it`s not meant to be
for the words to fall of that tree
is he then destined to wait
fixing his hair
for beauty to visit him

he sits in his mind
he`s cold and so sad
and he can`t think of
anything to say

 

 

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I like this one

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