borrow from life
the lenses with blind potsherds.
wipe up them neatly,
with the blunted tips of the arms,
clean the garbage that the wheels of the time
thrown into its face,
then... look at me!
commiserate me!
I am that embittered ant,
with two broken legs,
who was creeping on that thread of sand.
your merciless sole
ruined its banks
and now i will lie for ever,
crushed by the futility's burden.