Slavka Božović

Slavka Božović

Pen Might . . .

If I stopped writing,

I would betray my soul,

the ink would dry out and I would not smell the pencil.

The pencil illuminates my vision,

as he writes with the fingers of my heart,

shares love and joy,

I proudly walk with her into the future.

I sleep at night with a pen,

under the pillow leaves the stars,

she is my best friend,

who shares with me all the torments of the heart.

Sublime, nurtures my spirit,

so I feel free and happy like a bird,

when he pours my deep emotions on paper,

me as if flying on the wings of a swallow ...