Contempt poem.

No subjects interest me.
I seek for the vain.

But why?
Why does the easy consummate us?
And still, why doesn't the silly stand and why is the easy so hard?

I want to write the practical, I want to write what they want to read.
It kills me,
It hurts me.
It is not who I want to be.

I want to write about life,
about what I know and what I don't know.
I want to write poems,
Many stories I'll show.

The people are vain,
but the skies are blue.
Os ratos corroem a sociedade.
The rats are you!


They lie, they lie.


I can write,
I can feel.
Perhaps I only need to improve my will.

I can write about anything,
I can sing almost everything.
It all connects someway,
But how I cannot say.
Not now, anyway.

Doesn't matter!
You better go back to your pray.

You come along with my major changes.