Poetry is perhaps what teaches us to nurture the charming illusion: how to be reborn out of ourselves over and over again, and use words to construct a better world, a fictitious world that enables us to sign a pact for a permanent and comprehensive peace ... with life.
I have to say to myself that some birds aren't very close. Their feathers are just too bright. When they fly away, you know it's a sin to lock them up, and you'll be inspired by them. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I think I really miss my friends.
