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suicide poetry

os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
eu sei não onde
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
fraco-é voada a canção
arched a inundação
em seu vôo
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
eu prendo seu coração
quando uma ação for feita para a liberdade
não esteja irritado com mim

 



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