Très en cours

 

 

Tu appris à oublier
Je sais c’est dur tu vas en chier

Tu as appris que tu n’étais pas toi-même

La belle affaire à continuer

Tu suis les points de suspension

Tu te dis merde faut rassembler
Toutes les misères assemblées
Et si la terre m’ était comptée

Là tu es mal

Tu ne sais rien

Tu te dis que sera demain
Le temps de te crucifier

Et tu as tort

Perte en chemin

Tu ne songes qu’à t’étoiler

Comme tu as tort
Mon pauvre Isore

Comme il faudrait passer l’éponge

Mais tu t’oublies
Tu tords des songes

Et la lessive est pied de nez

Seb

le 6 octobre 2017
Sébastien

I'm writing. Poems. Stories. Songs. And not so boring reviews about movies, actors and, when I get really angry, news. In the blank spaces, I'm teaching. "Littérature". In a high school. A French one. In Copenhagen. In Denmark. On Earth, in the so-called (Scientist, Priests, Painters, Bakers and Postmen but curiously no Politics) so, in the so-called Universe, on Earth, in Denmark, Copenhagen. My biography is still in progress and will be updated when required. Next time I'm considering quitting everything for a non-sense relocation project of myself in Louisiana (the American one) or writing a poem to some iconic beautiful woman who has crossed my path for just a glance and I want to make it last. In vain, it goes without saying : told you I was a poet. Here it is folks. Haw ! most of all, and not to be forgotten : All my Love. Enjoy reading (and not only me). Sébastien

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