Poem -
to his birth
numbers knowing
the last of thisÂ
to no one
there he was standing
naked in the rainÂ
everyone laugh
as the music played on and onÂ
no movement to the test
as it soulfully played on himÂ
so dark it was
to his silence
so begins to his cry
and the rain poured on
to his birth
no level to embrace
for there he was .......another chanceÂ
a rebirth it was
as they shower him withÂ
lipstick.
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Comments
Different, unique… So Lorris! I love it.Â
BernadeteÂ
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