WHEN I EXİST
I’m just a beggar.
Under the street lamp,
Makes children sad,
But never been mad.
Just, a beggar
Whose voice echoes
On the empty walls.
Has the silence, made by shouts
Sometimes, I’m a poet.
Stays at bed and boards
Works nights at pubs.
Just a poet
And every poem that I delete
I lose a little more my faith
Sometimes, a brothel keeper
Has more respect than my position
Andfeelings, justgive me a poison
A night, my customer confess his love
Tomy best preffered prostitue
And a reply with a miserable smile
I met apocalypse inside