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Jedias OFFLINE Forum Posts: 3 |
Posted: Mon, 23/11/2015 01:48 (9 Years ago) |
A sound bring the dark . Dirty mud boots on the table . And a man leaning back in his chair, beards and long, greasy hair , dirty fingers black ink . The man rubs his face in a calm quiet despair , writhes in pain from stomach , gives another drink in the dark, and goes in search of brandy . Scours the kitchen cabinet and find a bottle . Fill a glass and turns . Turn another , and back to his desk . Throw the typewriter on the floor screaming - " No more writing ! To hell with this poem ! " Then raises the good that both estimates . Sorry and apologizing , walks to the window and looks black and cloudy night sky . " - I repudiate you , and everything else ! Oh damn shadow hanging over me. Write another man your martyr ! " He goes to his bottle , pours a glass and turns . Turn another , and turns . Comes face to face with an old family portrait of dusty and cracked the glass. Clean dust from the table and says : - " I do not want to see them. To hell with the past . " Shoot the wall frame , leads to the back of the house and put in an old wooden chest . " Dislike - you ! Oh family who I did not choose and who had long been my burden . Write another man your son . " He goes to his bottle , pours a glass and turns . Turn another , and sits at the piano . Plays a sad melody with tears in his eyes as his fingers walks trough the keys and dance , the sound is light and his pain so heavy . He leans forward as if carrying the piano itself suddenly in the back and with the music saying, " I do not want to touch , to hell with this melody. " Go down the key cover with force interrupting the sound with noise impact . " Dislike - it ! Oh damn song that haunts me since my first steps . Write another man its bearer . " He goes to his bottle , pours a glass and turns . Turns plus one, and goes to the mirror. Sees his eyes red and his finished look and asks: - " I do not want to carry you , to hell with myself . " With one punch he breaks the cracked mirror that cuts your hand , like the soiled floor . He wiped his hand on the shirt and looked at the mirror again. " Dislike - me! That was my biggest mistake . To cover myself with my own shadow . Being the son of my own burden . And to always carry the worst notes . [Read more] |
Jedias OFFLINE Forum Posts: 3 |
Posted: Mon, 23/11/2015 01:37 (9 Years ago) |
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