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here the sorrow is gentle

I conjure a calm heart

it feels like a room

with the windows wide open

the dust blows in, the birds fly through

it does not ask the storm to stop

here, the sorrow is gentle

it sits in the corner like an old friend

who has traveled a long way

glad for a place to finally rest

the world drops its sharpest edges

at the threshold

the uneven hours, the urgency of the debts

the loud demands of the noon

they enter here and soften

turning into breathing air

tuning to the reality

of a dream

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Written by
irinia
Romanian
Published
May 23
Lines·Words
17·97
Tags
#poetry
Permission

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