We live in a huge plastic bag,
Little to breathe,
Less to let out.
Junk air are collected,
As well as dark eyes.
Pure tears, stray dogs were
Thrown away in this plastic bag.
A child, surprisingly,
Played with it.
Hold a plastic bag gently,
Waving up and down,
Left and right.
Was he searching for the fresh air,
Or the fresh air was searching for him?
He jumped like a happy sika,
The plastic bag is transparent,
If it is the same with the human heart?
In spring, smiles really count.
Spring is a smile,
Seeing into the secret darkness,
Very sharply.
Then you find your shadow has been stolen,
Maybe by a forest,
Delighted with green light.
We live in a huge plastic bag, Less for the body to be While more for the minds to see. I love this poem!
Hopefully I read Plastic Bags/ Plastically it must be commented/ But unfortunately my libido's been stolen/ By the mischief that lives in poetic logs.
Lest the government makes plea for the 'mea culpa' and resorts to 'modus operandi' to improve it..Well said..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like this one.............