This trajectory leads me nowhere:
The landscape dies without my thoughts
and all those words I dare not say.
I hope nothing but those fences separating
the birds from the sky.
I can't feel the necessary emotion to grow
wings that I lost among the guilty clouds.
The engrossed wind must sweep my today.
I believe I just left myself.
(as if I could believe in anything when-
I stand here empty handed...)

Karla Bardanza

1 comment:

  1. We can all come to the end of ourselves. There are days we doubt ourselves, our talents and abilities. You have so captured and expressed that here. Excellent write. tc