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(1919 - 1987 / Turin / Italy)

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The Survivor

Once more he sees his companions' faces
Livid in the first faint light,
Gray with cement dust,
Nebulous in the mist,
Tinged with death in their uneasy sleep.
At night, under the heavy burden
Of their dreams, their jaws move,
Chewing a non-existant turnip.
'Stand back, leave me alone, submerged people,
Go away. I haven't dispossessed anyone,
Haven't usurped anyone's bread.
No one died in my place. No one.
Go back into your mist.
It's not my fault if I live and breathe,
Eat, drink, sleep and put on clothes.'

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004
Edited: Tuesday, January 11, 2005


Read poems about / on: sleep, people, alone, death, light, night, dream

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  • Martin Swords (8/12/2007 5:43:00 PM)

    Not gone.Not forgotten.The Messenger has delivered his Message.'Remember'

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