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graduation poem

tome mis pulseras
su pelo hermoso
por las mañanas nube-grises
porqué entonces, la necesidad nosotros ve?
el niño que lanzó lejos la hoja después de la hoja
se hace el dĂ­a
los dĂ­as hypocritic
por el puente grosero
déjeme moverse lentamente a través de la calle
la oscuridad rueda hacia arriba
sobre-habi'a preparado el acontecimiento
mire detrás con los ojos longing y sepa que seguiré
una tormenta está montando en la marea

 



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