Machine Guns Will Fade Away

There's the sky and the God and the cloud
Comfy world of desolation. Pink white blue and gold
merge together revealing feelings unknown that taste
more like a peach than an apple but who cares
the words of the story are long gone. They left
the day they could be numbered deciphered weighed and paid.
No one remembers. No one was there. Just a flower
with brown dead petals dry and laying on the ground
luckily not squashed though feet had passed
the speed feet pass
unknowing never looking absent minded.
Trying to fly. Always landing falling trodding
Straight lines in order to. For the sake. Hope. Efficiency
But nothing not able. Impossible. Should have stayed
there. But what wisdom has a flower. How can she say
with dead dry petals. Curling back and sleeping
but no should do never works. A mind of one’s own and
a lack of humility. A dream. A hoax. A crime.
Nobody to understand and nothing to share.
Forget me not I didn’t happen.

Sergio Aquindo  
http://sergioaquindo.blogspot.fr/