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anita nic's picture

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when i write some  poetry nowdays ,i don't think at poetry at all
if someone will like to ask :hey what's all  this poetry on about?
 some unexpensive buzz and  rotten feelings?
I  would  have to say :mate , is all about beeing seduced by words
and when i'd get tired  with it I will just say :
well this is for you, for the only one you, that is liking to beeing seduced by them , by blody  dreamy and unmetarial words
i really don't like poetry at all
is too sophisticated and forgotten somewhere in a book from that old shelther
is not here anymore
this blody time played with all those gifts that were given to me
they were posesing me ,but now I just look poor
where is the glory of the poets from  another days ?
I ve got an email though i miss my pen
I ve got an soul but i have got  no piano
i have a language that it cannot be used.
I have everithing but is not enough.
I still love rains  and orange juice.

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