Blinded by the Light |
|
Take a pencil with which you write on a blank sheet of paper Take a human being born sometime and somewhere Living is leaving behind a string of memories-- is to dare To become text with meaning, turn our being into letter Each one of us was born, to write, to scribble, to draw To be held by the hand of time and leave behind Squiggles which will be read by time and time alone Which meanings will have us shavings before we understand Take this worn out stub of a pencil with lead for soul Made many mistakes and erased them till it became dull Was sharpened so many times, till a new was bought Replaced, it was left at the bottom of an old drawer With the new one, new thoughts came forward, they were formed A poem rose, a sonnet surged, a sea of words gushed forth Some poet became wrecked in waves of pure thought Before you know it, he took the page, and tore it. He took the pencil, broke it, threw it on the floor There was a long silence and after the long silence, his sobbing The sun outside shone as it always shone He looked at it intently a long, long time till all around everything turned dark Silvério Gabriel de Melo e-mail: Este endereço de e-mail está protegido contra spam bots, pelo que o JavaScript terá de estar activado para que possa visualizar o endereço de e-mail |