Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Friday, 25 January 2013
Room 309
I have bathed
I listened to the sweet violin
I have read a little of Fernando Pessoa
If I was to call it sadness
Would I have to waiver more clear
If I was to call it peace
Would you crave at the veneer
That I can say it is tiredness
Is that a dearer message to wire
For do we not all feel tired
With much of life still to acquire
from the collection
The Curved Ball of an Artists Model
Love Encouraged By the Breakout
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