Vanitas
Thousands of squares
thousands of squares, cold and pale
eight corners waiting for my gaze to touch them
thousands of grooves that my finger touches gently
countless seconds until someone moves around me
thousands of thoughts, abstract and surreal
billions of feelings, always confusing
a hundred thousand dreams, none is fulfilled
I am surrounded by thousands of squares
I would like to see thousands of colors
I would like to walk millions of meters
Billions of people, I hardly know any of them
A hundred thousand words, but no one speaks
Four walls and a floor as hard resistance
I've run against it a hundred times
thousands of squares, cold and white
slowly covering themselves with color and with sweat
five big wounds and me in the middle of this island
>two fingers of my right hand serve as a brush
Hundreds of figures are now laughing at me
I have never been so happy in all the last few years
thousands of squares, cold and pale
the faces waiting for my gaze to touch them
thousands of splashes of color that my finger gently smears
dreamlike minutes in which I feel freedom

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS