Punctuation marks
It’s a dead poets society
Words lying across the page
Unknown, undiscovered, strange.
Trying to save them,
Punctuation marks
Are stuck in my soul.
I never knew how or when
I’ll be ready to use them all.
Question marks,
In a forbidden world
Don’t make a change,
They’re not alive
Until my mind agrees
To dive in and then…
Slowly waiting for
The words to come
I am ready.
Copiright: Ilinca Mreana
