CITEȘTI

Poezie

Words are the dim shadows of the forgotten ones, the ones left behind - they are the smiles of the saddened, and the frowns of the kind.

Douze

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de scripturienta

de scripturienta

I itch to rectify

those feeble hearts,

etched with

stanzas of song and

verses of prose.

I strive to feed

those void minds,

hollowed by rage and

plagued with pity.

I dream to soothe

those rugged contours,

engraved into the

crevices of those

warm and weary

bodies.

I crave to purify,

to brighten,

to mend

all of those shattered

pieces that have been

inevitably left behind.

With the jagged

fragments of

shimmering glass

scarring against

my naked palm,

I halt and ponder -

Who will be there

to mend me?

I have been alone

all along.