Letter to a Young Poet

O poet, do not be discouraged beside
Just write away from your watery eyes
Do not try to colour those grey clouds,
or make a voice to your voiceless aches
You are the related outsider to your
-- wounds, tears, and to your sorrows
I have failed and so I lost everything
I no longer hide from the death desires
The abandoned asks if he will snooze
with a deserted stomach, that recalls
me of the jail that I have made only
to stay away from all the butterflies
the boat of pleasure has collapsed
the train of bloody ambitions will
end at the station of desperation
just to remind you how my poems
are nothing but letters on dusty
racks, the melody of rain is fading
when you are attempting to infer
why tears cannot write a poem.