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My pencil, my passion, my emotion 1987 ( Translation of French original text in post below as ” Mon crayon,ma passion…” )

my pencil

my pencil

My pencil

Line by line
It travels your face
Line by line
It recognizes your wakes

To start
It traces
To continue
It always searches

In the lesser details
It discovers
All the ” stitches ”
And, the door opens…

The stitches that were missing
Is the key needed
To open the door
Of your secret garden

My pencil
A miracle
Not an obstacle
But a passion

Passion for a life
Empty of ambition
Stifled without reason
By stupidity, by inertia

Inertia is a vice
Devoid of any smile
Where the sun cannot survive
In a heart in delirium

Cutting the bridges
Which connects to this madness
That denies life
And all its medallions

That was my secret
The ” stitches ” that were missing
The key needed
For happiness newly found

And, line by line
With my pencil
I recognize your face
While searching my village
And finding my home !