The Best way to Make It Worse

This is a bad rotten day

Full of turmoil and

Wrong conclusions

Re-enacting past

Trauma in

Order to transfer them

To the next generation

I fall short

I know

Falling Out of Love

Sunday is a stinking

Hole of frustration

Screaming in the

Idyllic settings

For comfort and


While the snow

Keeps on falling


Happy to be here

Empty without money

On a dirty bedcover

Listening to nonsense

Still happy


The small world

Is a violent place

A way to destroy

Yourself and your feeling

With the help of your

Family members

That say they love you

By beating you to death

And then blaming you

For the consequence


Friends are a strange creed

Sometimes they follow you

For life and sometimes just a

Few days on your journey

You cannot trust them

But living without them

Makes life very dull

I do not suffer that

But I do hate being

Abused by friends

But the best is to start anew

Move on

Never easy

Just as resilience is an illusion

It has to be done