I. Andante

 

 

 

can’t keep my eyes open any longer lingering down the streets

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but I keep pretending and my feet do too.

 

Up and down and you know I perambulate

 

bottles, cig butts and food; I keep on

 

moving the whole night, another whole night long.

 

 

 

 

 

Turns out that at times I get lucky

 

but there are those rainy nights

 

I leave downtown without food.

 

 

 

At times I feel when I sink down on a stone

 

been enough, been enough for me.

 

Please, world let me out, I am all over

 

and I sing my swan’s song so:

 

 

 

Buried in the quicksand of my past

 

I slowly drown away, away swims

 

my will, my mind, my soul

 

it drowns in the quicksand of my memories

 

fading away.

 

 

 

The time for fights has past.

 

Past glories pass away, it’s

 

maybe bad poetry but

 

maybe life has been too bad

 

poetry for me and it is

 

time for tuning out.

 

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