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I threw the mud at the virtual face
I took the virtual mad ones
the scrumptionity away
I mocked at them
and have lost my strength
in my astonishment
I lost my mind
and my will to live
on my paper haven
like in a virtual vaciuum
somewhere close to me
I burned my feathers
I’ve got singing
and it started to blow
I smelled the uncontrollability
of morning waking up
in winter days

Krzysia T. Skrzypczynska, Poland

(Krzeslawa T. Skrzypczynska)

Copyright ©2004 Krzysia T. Skrzypczynska

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