Dear Editor,

The day of presentation

There is no exotic smiling face

Not even a lively plant to greet you.

You are welcomed with confusion

A lonely tree bloodied with red

Dedicated to YOU.

You edited my exhibition.


Each page moves along the spectrum of grey

There is no gentleness to glide around

Instead, treacherous rough woods for you to navigate.

This is not a samba

It is a tango

It is dance of horrors.

You edited my arrangement.


Shocking words that distress

Alarmed by my inaction of action

You moved my punctuation.

Destroyed its line

Its meaning

You misconstrued my sentences

Discarded my words.

You edited my meaning!


© 2015 / M.M.Salandy All Rights Reserved


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