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funeral poem

en septiembre
cómo como las estrellas es este el blanco, las caras sin nombre
no me quemo ningún incienso
para arropar el pensamiento ardiente
todos dentro y todos sin mí
asustado no más, digo
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
quién es el corredor en los cielos
cómoyo ayude a la derecha al mundo que va mal
de'bil-se va volando la canción
usted está claro
los días endeared a cada MUSE
hace tres años hoy
los hice una oferta todo el adiós

 



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