[Stilo]

Originally Posted by Bassim

Dear people.
Here is my new poem, please would you help me and proofread it

A Rock

The empty street.

A car or a bicycle pass by now and then.

It reminds me of a state of emergency

during the war in my hometown.

What is missing are/is the rattle of machine gun

and a bomb exploding now and then.


Block of flats inhabited by neighbours

who seldom talk to each other.

Instead, they watch TV, surf the Net.

Keeping distance,

is an established custom in this place.


My tragedy,

I have become one of them,

avoiding people as much as I can,

sitting in my prison flat,

the peephole of the doors my closest friend.


Am I still a human

or a body without will,

a prisoner of the past.

Why must I become a rock in order to survive?

Just a slight change.

Regards Stilo