III. Utopia
March 14, 2025 at 5:32 AM
Notes:
It has been almost two years since I started this poem. And now, proudly, I will present it.
With dedication to that random guy online who gave me an idea.
You’re just a ghost with a material body,
Which creates poems, comically frowns,
Writes letters for me as a monologues,
Among deserted, abandoned towns,
And sometimes, when you drop in to visit,
You laugh at my jokes out of place,
You float under the ceiling, stole apples,
And even if you’ll broke my vase
I’ll forgive you for your little antics
And probably hundreds years ago
We could be the closest or, maybe,
We could appear as foes.
But now, when it’s all became meaningless
Either time or where is home,
I will ask you to only remember me
During your lonely roam.
And always return to me timidly,
Because I always will wait.
In this world destroyed so completely
We’re the only who can rules dictate.