Teardrops Made of ink, Born from an ocean,   Are falling   To the ground, Covered in sheets Of white paper.   Each sheet Catches a different drop,   Witnesses That are yet   Too fragile To drown you,   Too solid To be forgotten,   Waves that are Not strong enough To reach the … Continue reading Fragments

My home is the world

This is a poem that I wrote some years ago, but to me, it has lost nothing of its accuracy. The picture was drawn by a very talented friend of mine and inspired me to write this poem.       I have no country or city to call home. My home does not consist … Continue reading My home is the world