Monday, July 10, 2017




I wanted to become a writer;
a writer of my own life,
life full of melody and sound.
I wanted to become a painter;
a painter of my own soul,
soul full of light and color.
I wanted to become an artist;
an artist of my own world,
world full of joy and freedom.
But, I became an actor,
‘cause I only play.


Words are distant;
poet’s lost
pen is ready
but to write cannot.
Silence a’ coming;
no one hears.
Silence a’ going;
no one cares.
Mind returns
to move the body.
Hand’s waiting
but to write cannot.


A lonely man approaching
asking for redemption,
chances long forgotten
searching back attention.

A lonely man is here —
silent old and grumpy —
shaking empty bottles
filled with hopeless air.

Dreamless nights arriving,
he's closing eyes with tears
trying to remember
life without its fears.

A lonely man is reaching,
wrinkled hands for prayer,
praying for forgiveness
for abandoned chances,
chances never taken.


I am a child,
a child like you.
You are a child,
a child like me.

We are this child
who speaks within;
within each of us
and remembers a childhood,
a childhood of joy
and of love.

But who is that new child today,
the new child
of this new world so brave?
Where is the child playing outside,
playing outside and smiling around?
Where is it now?

Now, there is a child sitting at home,
sitting at home playing computer games
and watching life,
its lif,e passing by,
passing by and deleting,
deleting its childhood.

These new children are asking right now:
"How do you call us today?"
But, waiting no answer
saying instead:
"Today, we are children

children of a pause,
a pause we hit on our life.

How do you call us today?
Answer us not
'cause we don't care.

We are webmasters!
We are weblovers!
We are e—mail writers!
We have new covers!

I am a gamer!
You are a hacker!
She is youtuber!
He is only a stalker!

How do you call us today?
We stopped paying attention,
but maybe that is okay
after so much information.

Come, life!
Come closer!
We need to tell you:
Go as fast as you can,
as slow as you can,
as wrong as you can...
'cause we are this new child today;
a new child playing computer,
playing computer and living online.
Fear us!


ANNA KOSTOVA is a Bulgarian. She is a poet who comes from a small and picturesque mountainous town called Smolyan. Now, she currently works and lives in Lodz, Poland but her mother tongue is Bulgarian. She defines herself as a full-time dreamer who seeks and finds inspiration in the subtle, little things in life.

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