This is my second post in this Blockchain Poets community. It has been very interesting to dive into my memories, in my old notebooks, and rediscover part of the poetry that I wrote decades ago. I no longer write poetry, because something broke in me that prevents me from doing it again; however, I think it's nice to record what I experienced and how I expressed it.
Still
late night greeted me
totally ignorant of my pain,
blind
what happens the turns of the clock
falling on me
with complete accuracy,
cutting my soul,
like gall knives;
infallible reminder
of your absence
of your non-presence
of your no of never.
I walk across the room
cheating me
running one, two, three,
(I don't know how many more)
clock turns;
trying to draw you
with the smoke of a cigarette,
and you,
inaccessible, (like the smoke itself)
leaving and arriving,
in a game of despair
unconscious the same...
Delegations welcome!
