loser
I’ve lost my self in the other’s fields,
Revering their flowers for decades and still
Snoring genuinely- sleeping under their feet
Feeding me from my field
Teaching me how to harvest my land
I first tought them how to flush their plants
Praising their fluffy wings while cutting mine
Following them in their diverged paths
Until i lost my straight path.
Copyright so called poetry of Biba 2018
So-called Poetry of Biba 