I accept that I was created Poem by Els Moors

I accept that I was created
and touch me I'm one hundred percent
sea anemone

a cold wind blows over from
the mountains it's been raining for days
and there's no relief in sight

everyone keeps their lips
pursed in icy silence
and the hand on the gauge
flirts continually with the zero

if I speak it's only to
murderers and thieves now
that hide away in
the desert like bedouins

my lonely tongue
is as chaste as the waters of
an ocean but then
before the world used it
as a dumping ground

Translation: Michele Hutchinson