My body, numb, weighing on the floor,
not listening to me, drowned in the corner;
It stares in the dim wall, doesn’t move,
while the fingers crawl towards the half-open door.

Time, sun and shame,
cracked the wall, dripping colorful sweat;
Wallpaper ripped, shivers freely in the air,
as wind whistles from the cracked window frame.

The singing window crack,
for a moment, lights the wallpaper dark damp;
One over the other, they perfectly fit,
only for a second, the sun can’t wait.

A scratched blurry flower,
from long ago, rests on the wall;
Paints color to the tears, from the crack that fall.

The rotten wood on the window frame,
from long ago, it’s eaten away;
Dry rotten specks, from the crack on the wind sway.

In light, dust and drops one become,
the sun looks, so a vapor wave in the air it is shook;
It fills the room with smell of life and bloom;
Two cracks, one become;
And all they get, is a light a day.