In this land
I have made myself sick with silence
In this land
I have wandered, lost
In this land
I hunkered down to see
What will become of me.
In this land
I held myself tight
So as not to scream.
-But I did scream, so loud
That this land howled back at me
As hideously
As it builds its houses.
In this land
I have been sown
Only my head sticks
Defiant, out of the earth
But one day it too will be mown
Making me, finally
Of this land.
-Charlie's poem

Auteur: Anna Funder

In this land<br />I have made myself sick with silence<br />In this land<br />I have wandered, lost<br />In this land<br />I hunkered down to see<br />What will become of me.<br />In this land<br />I held myself tight<br />So as not to scream.<br />-But I did scream, so loud<br />That this land howled back at me<br />As hideously<br />As it builds its houses.<br />In this land<br />I have been sown<br />Only my head sticks<br />Defiant, out of the earth<br />But one day it too will be mown<br />Making me, finally<br />Of this land.<br />-Charlie's poem - Anna Funder


©gutesprueche.com

Data privacy

Imprint
Contact
Wir benutzen Cookies

Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.

OK Ich lehne Cookies ab