WHEN I BECAME A POETESS...

12YRS BOY DIGITAL VERSION 2014

My first poem

was a funeral oration

In the classroom there was no

Boy more beautiful than him

We were twelve years old

I just had walked

into adolescence

In the classroom there was no

Girl more prudent than me

Everything was still

Neatly in my mind

I never told him

How I loved his freedom 

He was drowned while playing in the river

-I learned afterwards that in Pineios river

existed mysterious whirlpools-

I stood above his

Lifeless nice face

-The church  was echoing the lament-

And I told him what I would never dare

To tell him when his eyes were open

Everyone marveled at my wonderful words

His mother was grateful to me for years

As for me, I mild for the first time 

The bitter sherbet of poetry

I felt the expression of

doubt dramatically

Both the martyrdom and the enlightenment

through the search for truth

The peek behind

The curtain of illusion

of this corruptible world

My relationship with poetry  began 

through...What else ?

Through love and death .