The Lost Dreamby Tatjana Debeljacki
We could have done better If we had believed in the stories about happiness. We are loosing strength for the new challenges. The right on free vote is often lacking. We considered you an ole Tired dog, dying slowly Unable to do change anything To enlive by the power Of thoughts, crying eyes. We should have grasped the depths of the night, Should have heard the rhymes by Boudelaire and Prevert In the echoes of your voice of warmth. When visiting exibitions of paintings, We would admire shadows. Paris now looks different. Your silhouette glitters in every light.
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volume 10(6)This poem is copyright © 2006,
Tatjana Debeljacki, all rights reserved.
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