stain

since last time
I haven't felt so bad.
it used to be worse but every time I would pretend
that I'm all right.
and I would be all right
although it would all reflect badly on me
that I would even conclude
how I am really
dissatisfied with anything.
I was conscious, if I have to mention,
when forced by the circumstances I recalled
all the traumas during the sunny days
and rainy nights,
while others were hopping barefoot
around girls
inviting them to a drink or a dance
and at the same time revealing their hidden capital,
or at night again
casually worked on their pray.
I was not made for such
environmental trends.
everyone in life
has its ups and downs, in short,
their own pace
and me - I feel like I slipped into the abyss
at the bottom of which I expect to find a
springboard at least, like a formality
for hope.
but even if it is there and if I do manage to bounce back
I probably won't end up any further than the wall
that is all around me.
what comforts me is the feeling that
on that wall I will probably remain only as a stain
that will be remembered;
but not by the wisdom that would get all the attention
but the one that is not supposed to be washed,
erased.






© Tom Del Braco

(photo by Martin Stranka)