Genre: Family, Time, Death, Society


In this room, with earthen walls, my mother gave
birth to me, on a clear, quite morning. In this room, my grandparents grow old, my parents grow old and now, I have grown old. In this room, I have seen time, motionless, staring at my eyes, while my face slowly shrinks, squeezing the youth out of my soul. In this room, I have seen death in the eyes twice, and God, I know the third time I will be her accompanist. In this room I wait, I wait for the unknown for many, for the well known by me. I wait for the unstoppable, with no other choice but to wait. I wait, like the green leaves of the tree for winter, like the bloom rose waits for the sun. like a wolf waits for the full moon to howl, like a mother waits for her son. Sometimes it has occur to me. What if death forgets about me and never comes? but then I smile and think to myself, I am not just old but also a fool. Than, I proceed to wait for Night to come and the new sun to shine. In this room I was.

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Deadline for POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:

WATCH this month’s poetry readings performed by professional actors:

Watch Recent Poetry Readings:

Watch Previous Poems turned into movies:

By WILDsound Festival

Submitters reactions to their feedback on their stories. New testimonials coming each month! Watch this month's winning readings. At least 15 performances a month: Submit your script, story, poem, or film to the festival today:

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