It doesn't make any sense...
Nothing comes out in the end.
I can't think of something hence
Make a text where I have to pretend
That I know what should be written.
But nothing comes out of my head.
Maybe I should have stayed in bed
Doing anything instead of being here
Living with this fear
That this block won't go away
That maybe it wants to stay.
Damned it be this class I'm in!
Still nothing gets out of me
And by looking back at what I said
I just stand here realizing...
It doesn't make any sense.
-made in a class where I couldn't
write the text my teacher asked me to do
YOU ARE READING
The Book of all Poetry
PoetryA book with poetry written by me. It all written in English. For the Portuguese poems I wrote, go to my other book called "Escrita com Lágrimas e Dor"
