past

generation zero.
a baby century...born numb.
tired of the old ways... the laws.
the freedom and how it all
supposed to be: the same.
the body, our form.
and minds...theatrical. and sad.
as we take one step forward,
two steps back, and follow the
footprints of those before us.
in search of what?
what did they know we don’t.
same questions,
more embellished answers.
laced with technology and arrogance.
a quest for love...what nonsense.
alone we’re born, alone we die.
2000 questions/zero answers

          minutes

         upon my lips

         one last kiss

         against my skin

         one last touch

         across my heart

         one last look at you.

           without you

           alone today

           i am confined

           within.

           morgana

           i am reminding myself

           of regret as an illusion.

                                          Poems by Gabriela Rotaru