...cel to sell...
being sold
like a piece of
armery to save
the slaves amongst
ending up lonely
shattered lips
as the cold environment
rips you open
put in a cel
of lonely thinkings
missing out
you're one of many
next to contain
an image of conflict
to carry the picture
of the cel
which holds
the other vanished
lonely fractions
Reacties op dit gedicht
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: diepdenker | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: Frummel | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 19 juni 2003 | ||
| Thema's: | ||