Poetry

Moment, preceded by the choice to let go or have lost

Empty when stolen

Overshadowed by greed

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There is a little house on the bridge between Dictatorship and Democracy

It’s walls are bound by memories of a home that may never have existed, and yet is still on the brink of disappearance

Leaving this house means you may not find your way back

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Surfers dot the waves

Fall in when the time is right

Not always by choice

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For how many thousand splendid sunsets

Shall I hold my tongue

Fickle arms

Still lips

Silence overtakes the bridge between our joy

We are alone

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A Noble Departure

In Silence & Grief

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Know your worth

And value of those who value you

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Dancing comedians are not dancing from the heart.
Maybe they’re just somber forever.

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Flying across the city

In a crowded metal box

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If all love is longing, then let me grow taller than the tower of London

For the longer I wait for you

The shorter grows my patience

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