Subway Blues

The darkness in

The tunnel is deep

Train passes by

Nobody will see me cry

I am the old man with

A wretched look and dirty hair

Talking with

That awful racist slur

Wearing an unwashed fur

Having a heart of gold

When the stomach of beer is full

Stinking like a dirty dog

Since I lost my sense and frock

Hardly standing

Watching life passes by

But his time has stopped

Just like his watch

Time will not do me well

Not even right the wrongs

watch

Breaking Out

Life has its strict

Limitations options

The older you get

The fewer options

You have

But only when it comes

To conventional action

We can always break that

Into something different

Get out of your frame

The Old Mans Song

The finest hour was always

To our surprise

A crowded one

We shared our lives

With the crowd

Around us

The food, the clothes and the dirty

Mattresses in the dining hall

Still this is fond memories

We had a common cause

Now I am old and wealthy

My five bedroom house is empty

And the pool is never used

We are like strangers or

Even worse enemies to

Each other

Avoiding to meet even

Over dinner

©schibolet

Perspective

It is different to become older

Your perspective changes

The future becomes the past

In reality, creating a paradox

Whatever you do, knowing

That it will not result in a bright

And better future just more

Ability to carry the burden

Of being oneself

Loss of Action

Logic is losing its meaning

When you cannot act

Being trapped in panic

The crisis is growing

But the mind keeps

It hidden, but aware

Being in denial of reality

Because reality cannot be

Changed

Past Future

I did see the future come and go

Once, twice and a third time

Remembering the past

Getting stuck in what was

Unable to protect or act

Repeating the story and memory

Now again the future is here

Like a grey sky early in the spring