Poetry is a presentiment of the truth.

“I don’t write poetry when I wish, I write when I can’t, when my larynx is flood…”

“Tell me what’s the differencebetween hope and waitingbecause my heart doesn’t k…”

“No home anymore. Nowhere to return. My house is a ruin, a cemetery. You may yea…”

“Where your pain is, there your heart lies also.”