You are screwed

either all is read or every once in a while all is said your bed is made of jasmine petals… who knows? first you are conceived then given birth they put you into a cradle and you start to flourish your bed is where you rest, sleep dream and fantasize one day you meet someone this time you make your own bed and lay in it/ give and take and flatter yourself as if you lived then time comes and you die did you live? this is it live, give then die only when you sigh i bet you, you are going to cry it is like lying in a death bed questions comes to mind memories start haunting one by one passing in front of your eyes like a film the bedrooms, the gardens, the graveyards they all look like one another if you lived and gave you will remain where they will lay you if not you are screwed if you heard the beauty from the inside of me you write don’t you ever forget that? beds are like books tales are told some of them are boring some are fearless some are wonderful the importance is stories are told if you believed in four books done good deeds until rebirth you’ll end up sleeping in the ground that’s where your bed is. Gunsel Djemal London -2004