I See A Poem As A Multi-coloured

The Night Stared Me In The Face, Amorphous, Blind, Infinite, Without Frontiers. Not A Single Start Relieved The Darkness Behind The Glass.

Every Stink That Fights The Ventilator Thinks It Is Don Quixote.

If A Man Who Can’t Count Finds A Four Leaf Clover, Is He Lucky?

A Dream Will Always Triumph Over Reality, Once It Is Given The Chance.

Is A Mountain Only A Huge Stone? Is A Planet An Enormous Mountain?