poem · thoughts


There was a little boy sitting on a broken tree.
There was a little girl singing a never heard song.
They were broken stars
Shining different kind of light.
They had dreams that were never listened by the world. 
They were innocent.
Kinda blind.
Never saw cruel world calling them by the worst of names:
They didn’t hear voices screaming old brutal song.
Ballad of selfish people.
Stating comfort in the first place.
Saying freedom but taking it away.
Forcing melody that never calms down.
Never tries to understand.
Neither helps.
The melody of darkness.
The melody of…
The broken one…
The girl was singing a song with a choir of little angels
The boy was making a castle 
so for once they will be protected.
The walls of the castle were cold.
The song of the angels was an echo.
The echo of dreams 
Simple laughs
Falling down 
Getting up
The echo of love
The echo of pain
The echo of never heard.
There are stars falling every day.

They see them shining.
They say:

Kinda blind.

The night
Was dark.


6 thoughts on “unborn

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