July 24, 2012

Poem from the past...

I found this small poem, written onto the margins of the Dostoyevsky's "The Idiot"... I remember writing this poem, in a bar, under the violent sounds of huge speakers and deadly clouds of smoke, half dead due to high doses of alcohol...

If he could cry

He could also laugh

But he

Neither cried

Nor laughed

It was a night

That everybody else seemed happy

He died...