I hear an old man
Telling tales to children.
He sits on his armchair
And narrates to them
Stories that used to be real.
He bites on his chewing stick
And spits into the sand,
His voice rising and falling,
His chest heaving with emotion.
I see a young man
Wooing a lady.
He stands for hours
Confessing his love for her.
Feelings which disappears
As he gets home
And smells the aroma of food
While playing games with his friends,
Cursing and screaming profanities.
I watch a group of children
Running around naked.
They chase termites around,
Catching and frying them
After a rainfall.
They eavesdrop adult’s talk
With their red ears
Raised like a rat’s,
When they’re not crying for food.
I hear a young lady
Whispering to her friends.
She tells them the
Secrets of her adventure.
Forbidden words not to be spoken
To the hearing of another.
They giggle in happiness,
Covering their mouths
With their hands.
I watch myself
Moaning in pleasure.
I stare as I indulge in nothingness,
Screaming in ecstasy,
Basking in little sins.
I walk around the ruins
In the afternoon.
I sleep close to the damage at night,
Snoring with reckless abandon.
Don't worry so much about this one. It's one of those I write half conscious. I let my mind wonder and my fingers play with words.