Spread out, standing tall,
injustices of the world—
weeds in my garden.
Omnipresent
Wasted
Desolate country
where old metal goes to die
all the world’s a dump
Watching
Millions of sunsets
behind double-glazed windows—
life in reflections.
About time
Death, omnipresent,
surrounded by the living
my garden blossoms
Braveheart
Face up to the sky—
brave the chilly wintry breeze,
spring is on its way.
