Jak jsem se nudila ve filosofii....

....tak jsem psala básně, tak bych se s nimi chtěla podělit, abyste věděli jak špatná moje angličtina je :)

STAIRS

She was sitting on the chair.

The black,

the metal shining,

her stair.

The stairway of her life.

Why black?

Why metal shining?

When she was five...

Oh...she remembers

It wasn't dependent.

Was it March?

Or November?

Does it matter?

No,

she knows

the stairway was colorful

and around...

Her eyes cry.

Why did the flowers

or the bird

have to die?

What?

What is the point of this space?

Is it black,

the metal shining,

an empty place?

REALITY

The white of innocence

soft like a sheep.

How can the world make any sense?

Maybe when we sleep,

it's the reality

that we actually skip.

How big is the probability

that we will see?

Is it in our ability?

The size of a sea,

the depth of a valley,

the misunderstanding from me.

Mám vás ráda, vaše Esi