Torn-up letters of disdain.
Manuscripts thrown in the bin.
You say you are sorry.

But it is no so easy.
And I must close the book
on printed rainbows.

Raindrop words will never find
their place in the sun.
I give up. You have won.

Success will never come.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: The Book
(Juan Gris, 1913)

Raindrops are God’s tears,
rainbows are Heaven’s doors
and I strongly believe
clouds are floating mountains.

I love to blow the dandelion flower.
I always do as I please
and often hurt my knees
and my heart.

But I don’t really mind.
I’m proud to tell everybody
I never grow up
and never will.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Cloud
(Arkhip Kuindzhi)