For my friend,
James Forte
Today,
in my garden of roses,
in June
of the year of the Lord 2024,
at 60 years old,
with white hair
I am lookinhg to the World..
From the morning with dew and sun
I am listening
the song of life,
Hail Mary!
And I'm thinking,
to people who die,
led by dements leaders
in many wars
of the World,
who will never listening
Hail Mary!
I would like to be,
more closer to the God,
to can help him
to make
a more good WORLD !
Erroneous mirror scatters his face
Mills his skin into thin porous powder
Muck which gets stuck under tongue in a paste
Mouth stuffed with rubble cement rancid sour
Embalmed motorbike tennage champion
Mist cobwebs in his chest, windless clothesline
Murdered dreams dumped, tight vertibre cramp them
Measure of failure in winnings' decline
Engine never to rev segments ego
Mourning whip lashes languish in his lungs
Molten moon drips millions he forgoes
Mortality unknown among airborne young
Moonbeam diamonds stall, star status dements
Ebb of ignition rides midnight lament
Sixteen year old Hero, Matty
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