I am hard-hearted

for what is around the corner

while my hearts wait on the same

for someone to pick it up

like a small and delicate

prostitute in red

I forbid it to do it

to offer itself openly to everyone

and for free

in exchange it

looks forward to

optional smiles and hugs,

only.

I forbid it

going out on the working days

and at the weekend it can

stay out until 8 pm

when all kids are going to bed

I sent it too,

cause I want to spend a night

in town without it

immature for the world.

I let it sleep calmly

so I will not be disturbed by

anyone’s indifference

incidental stupidity and non-thinking

and other hogwash,

so it would be a trifle to me

like a grain of sand

in this ocean of life

and it can fall into my eye

irritate me and makes me cry,

but after every trifle of sand

I washed out with fresh water

and artificial tears,

only words on paper

locked in numerous notebooks

testifies about any of my defeats

which I keep secret about it

and which seems not to have

weight in the morning,

for everything else

what is around the corner

I am hart-hearted

while my hearts wait on the same

for someone to pick it up

In vain