Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Please, would you proofread my poem RIDERS ON THE STORM.
Riders on the Storm
I am twenty-two years old.
A refugee fleeing from bad luck.
My application for asylum has been refused.
They can throw me out of the country anytime
and give me a chance to taste a Communist prison camp.
It is a calm and starry summer night somewhere in Germany,
All windows open.
On the other side of the road, in a shabby little house,
live some outcasts and a brown mongrel dog.
They are drinking, probably taking drugs, and listening
Riders on the Storm.
I wish I could join them and escape my loneliness,
But I am timid and anxious like a helpless child.
Jim Morrison’s plaintive voice and dreamy music float above me,
Fading out and returning like the waves of a waste ocean.
They make my heart vibrating like a tuning fork.
Tonight I believe in a miracle.
Something will stop the arrival of dawn.
Riders on the Storm
I am twenty-two years old.
A refugee fleeing from bad luck.
My application for asylum has been refused.
They can throw me out of the country anytime
and give me a chance to taste a Communist prison camp.
It is a calm and starry summer night somewhere in Germany,
All windows open.
On the other side of the road, in a shabby little house,
live some outcasts and a brown mongrel dog.
They are drinking, probably taking drugs, and listening
Riders on the Storm.
I wish I could join them and escape my loneliness,
But I am timid and anxious like a helpless child.
Jim Morrison’s plaintive voice and dreamy music float above me,
Fading out and returning like the waves of a waste ocean.
They make my heart vibrating like a tuning fork.
Tonight I believe in a miracle.
Something will stop the arrival of dawn.
Last edited: