I have tried to be honest -
I cannot
I have tried to strip me off my sins
and this is -
and here is where it all begins, cause look:
born, and raised as one is, I belong
to the race of those kids who define
themselves by their age, by the content of time
that they spent
helplessly rushing from one end
to the other, with father and mother
still in between
with memories in cages and stories
unseen and unnoticed
with silences louder than sirens,
bigger than rocks and finer
than powdery snow on the top
and with eyes:
ah, with eyes wider than ruins
and more fierce than millions
and millions of armys in lands
where no daffodils grow
where no dragons fly and no harpees,
where the masses of sky are empty and vast
as the churches
so those eyes:
yes, wide eyes, and empty,
dreaming of countries that see no dawn
that yawn for experience
the youth has told lies to the world
given rise to a culture that hurls itself back
to the starting point
whenever it touches
the edge
so there now:
the youth in a square box
a cage in its own ship
prepared just to rip off the walls
the silly paper
with blue and white cloud print
only to see then, a little bit later,
that beyond
there is freedom -
and always had been.