Moral Survival
Eco-locating dreams of a wounded me
Rejected by the fins cutters of bloody Reality
I had strong arms but could not walk
on powdered carcasses of my friends' hopes
they had only gills...lungs “saved” me...
drifting on a dry land with no melody...
copyright@iolandascripca2012
Copyright © Iolanda Scripca | Year Posted 2012
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