Why would they set the forest on fire?
Gray trails in the air make voices frail,
Red eyes behind warm skin, melting away.
My limbs are tired of staying still,
But I can't bear to move my body,
And have my world be damaged,
Have my hopes be crushed,
Have my life cut shorter.
But even when I forget,
I am starving for a new day.
SEPTEMBER 10, 2023
YOU ARE READING
The Internet is Not Real
PoetryTinged with blue light and red eyes, to the warm of heart. Thirteen months of poetic texts and thirteen illustrations. (También en Español: El Internet NO es Real)
