PIECE OF BREAD

A well-known voice
allow me again
to fill a white sense
of clean sheets on my bed.
There I will lie down my body
to broke a deep dream.
Carpe Diem!
.............

In the morning
the same old voice wakes me up,
I wear my old shoes,
I walk true the long same street
dreaming with my heavy shoulders
bread with breath of soul.

But the hour is now
and couple of seconds more,
by the time I finish
this poem
it will be a yesterday, or the day before
and couple of seconds more.

Poem
red hair and a beauty mark under the lips
some old shoes
and few pieces of bread
with breath of soul
Is this all that’s left for me at all?

No
I’ve never wanted
to push out a lyrical poem!