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Every time I open the wardrobe,
I see those empty hangers
hanging without life, crying out for you,
Once been dressed with your shades of black,
Proud of being attracted by every eye it's seen by...
Every time they look at me,
they keep asking me the same I've been asking to self,
Why I haven't stopped you while leaving?
Why I haven't controlled my anger of rush?
Why haven't I confessed that I love you deep inside?
Why I haven't heard to you?

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HANGERS
Hanged on hangers
Of the haggard hangman
Are ticky garments
Worn to uneventful events
To trigger the smiles of the dead .

Angered hangers,
Sieves nostrils of landowners,
Whose tenants are shadows,
In the daylight and moonlight .

Hangers and hangars
Hangars and hangers
Hangars of hanged dangers
Hangers of endangered hangars.

Hangouts of the angered —
Amusing to those,
Without a hanger,
To hang their fright,
Before boarding the flight
To the garage for the first time .

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