Luck Poem by Pere Risteski

Changable and unstable
holly terror
of bankers and politicians
― is my luck.
And yet, people were envious on my happiness
I gave too much, and didn't want anything
the tips of my fingers
with a needle I thorned
as a huracane
as an earthquake
I wandered and roamed in the world
draging my self drunk
as someone who has forgotten that he lives
and that was beared
― by my luck.
As a bird I held you
gently in my arms
so you can be free like
― my luck.
Only once I spoke
and one more day
and I will not know what is dissapointment
now on my mount there's only laughter
― for my luck.