torstaina, syyskuuta 28


 (This thor's day we take a trip to the year 2013 and Jasper, Canada. I wrote this poem during the world café)

I've been made of forgotten words
Imaginary sights at the end of the flashlight
Like this young man with dark hair
and eyes no emerald green

My heart beats too slow
so no one could never know
What I feel
when the night gets dark
You can see tracks of my tears
coming from my greatest fears

I want to hop the world three times around
then sleep and never wake up
Sometimes wondering will someone
at some place and time
Make me feel loved
Will someone
at some place and time
Notice what I'm doing to myself

Forgotten words
Dead languages
That's what I'm made of
That's what I am
No one
in the eternity

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