Sometimes I wish
To stop writing ‘something like a poetry’
And write a real poem one day
Tear it up in pieces as soon as I finish
Let the chaos rein, topple the known check boxes
New sunrise at the canvas of horizon
Smell of nicotine and burnt diesel in my lungs
Urban cold carbon
Isn’t it a miracle?
That I still want to be green again!
My cold heart is standstill now
He couldn’t get in the crowded bus
After exhaling the last molecule of air
From my neon-roasted lungs
I wish I could ask you now
How are you?
It makes me feel good
When I imagine
I will get a moist answer in return
Even though it might be
Warmest day of the year
I believe I will feel an urge
To call the moment by name of autumn
I know you cover the sorrow of another man
With your long hair
Still I feel to be live again
When your smile ignite cold fire
In this intolerable time!