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Uncertainty
April 29, 2010
I am not alive for if I were,
I would be dead,
And the stars below me
Should fall for centuries;
My pen on the paper
Leaves English
And English cannot express
Anything of which I want
Of which I yearn for
Of which now I cry.
Therefore I am dead
And all that is alive
Is this pen
And the French.
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This article has 1 comment.
Villacis said...
on Jan. 20 2011 at 3:07 am
This is beautiful and sad. While I understand the beauty that always come from you, maybe one day you will tell me what made you cry
