Poem By Niko Tiliopoulos
Strolling down the alleys of mind,
not the boulevards or the highways,
with the modern arts and the sunny days.
No, these streets are not so kind.
There is dirt and pain here,
where fools and princesses in disguise
are dancing along with their cries,
and the endless rain and fear.
The lies here are grey
forever like an ancient curse
they dare me to do my worse,
in a night that is to stay.