Imagination
In the mighty fields where water runs deepa father put his child once again to sleep
some years later the kid's going to be educated
all the imagination and the beauty is bound to be violated.
In a crowded city where cars cause all the noise
there are twins playing sweetly with their toys.
Pushing forward in the casette recorder of life
you see two boys short of their useless time.
When you step outside your door
you hear the crowds crying out for more.
give us some more of your personality,your innocence
and all of this technological guilt will create a distinctive essence.
A little boy slipping his fingers through the chords of his guitar
a little escape from the reality whose mediocrity has gone too far.
Two songs well-written rest on the desk
and next to them a million history and politics notes warn him for a test.
They say that in your life you must hold on to your values and your morals
I Dare say that this is not what counts even more.
What's more painstaking than holding onto this vivid imagination,
which is cursed to abandon you when you step outside your door?
Poetry by Eva
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Written on 2009-06-10 at 00:04
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Louise. J |
Louise. J |
Editorial Team |
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by Eva Latest textsTo Let GoSoftness Particle The ghosts Summer in the city |
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