I write masterpieces when people talk,
Or the music is loud,
Or cars drive by,
Or a baby cries,
It loosens the grip on the chains round my heart,
And grants the reigns to my fingers,
But before they start,
I catch my breath
And for a second,
My head is not underwater anymore,
As I open my eyes again,
My gaze reaches rolling mountains,
I'm able to hear the sea's debate,
And feel the strangely comforting humidity,
Of the mediterranean air,
The horn's blow follows,
And soon my head's reign is over,
And when my gaze falls to the screen,
And reveals all that I felt,
Written like the flow of a stream,
Pressure is relieved,
As if a knife had been,
Struck into my brain,
The list of burdens shortens,
And time passes slower,
My legs feel lighter,
And my mind much clearer,
Not free from invaders,
Who stroll past the doors,
Bringing no remorse,
But open and evolved,
Understanding and simple,
Cause the moment I smile,
I show them my dimples.
YOU ARE READING
an attempt at poetry
شِعرJust a couple words thrown here and there trying to, with ink, show what I mean. START W/ THE LATEST CHAPTERS PLEASE!! (I swear they're much better than the first ones) (I'm sorry for the first couple of ones jejeje) ps. English is not my first lang...
