who are you
when you erase that makeup
watching yourself fading
in your cruel mirror
who are you
when you get rid of your clothes
peeling slowly a skin
hiding you to the others
tell me who you are
when you're alone in this room
when you let your tears fall
to roll down on your cheeks
who are you
when the violins start crying
when the night is rising
and when you lay here thinking about
why do you cry
what do you want to achieve
why can't you forget that soul or
more important
why did you stop writing poetry?
VOUS LISEZ
mots à maux
Poetrysi tu savais combien de larmes j'ai versé pour écrire ces putains de poèmes
