What am I
A creator, a thing or
Just an idea
Do I exist
Or am I
Just dreaming?
What am I
A creator, a thing or
Just an idea
Do I exist
Or am I
Just dreaming?
Why was I ever here
Was there any meaning
At eleven we always go to heaven
Contradiction in terms
Which is perfect for propaganda
Confused overused poet writing
One night I dreamt that
Every human was free
Each one living in their own tree
A small treehouse for each one of us
In a green utopia
But I woke up in the desert
Cold and frozen
The trees had left
For a better forest
And I just walked around
N absolute horror
Freedom to be heard
Silence is a pleasure
Among all the noise
We cannot listen
To much for meaning
Together with people
That hates me every day
Realizing that there is no
No place on this earth
I have to go
I should never
Never have lived
Among you
Your world
But, you go and create
Inflicting suffering and destruction
Go and destroy yourself
Be happy in the destruction
Love will end the world
Your faith will kill you
And I don’t want to
Watch you burn
For a long time
I tried not to get involved
Avoiding conflicts
Believing that things
Would work out anyway
They did not do that
The bad people continued
Their way
Since no one stood up against
Them life went on
And in the end
I lost my self
My will to live
My sense of living
Eating pills did not
Solve but maintained
Things as they were
So here I am alone and old
Soon gone
This is my song
Tired and out of hope
Just trying to stay alive
A little longer
Without knowing why
The wind and the rain
Takes the best of me
(Not that much left)
Soon only memories
Will remain
Untouched by
The relentless rain
The obvious is now
Clear and out
In the
Bright daylight
No space is available
Anymore anyway
Anywhere for anyone
The future is
Just gone with the wind
A hot sticky wind
Making you cough
At night
And choke in the daytime
While we pretend
Everything is normal
Assemble energy, power,will
Try to get
Past last years tragedies
In a snowy Stockholm
Being around negative
People that put me
Below the ground
In a pit of self pity
Never mind
This kind of torture
Is part of this shitty
Life without meaning
Or purpose
It is of course my fault
I don’t deserve to live
I don’t want to live
Kill me and use me
As a fertiliser in
Your garden so
I eventually come
To some use
Together with the other
Jews and infirm
That you put there
A while ago
And then go on
To destroy the world
Which is your purpose
We live in a noisy
World, everyone scream
Around you
Making big dramatic gestures
Meaning nothing or very little
To hear and see the miracle
Look down
Bend down
To the ground
Listen with your ear
To the ground
Learn the language of the trees
They will be your best
Friends
the world turns on a word
How to be organized
I'm just another dreamer...
let's mend the broken
Raku pottery, vases, and gifts
Att vara annorlunda/att inte passa in i samhällets ramar
Apps for Business
Rare Poetry and Food stories
Rhymes and Reasons
Making People Cool and Author
How to feel better again
Fitter. Faster. Healthier.
Talking about comedy that is not worth talking about
mental health & personal development
to be worth sharing
A monthly event... LAFeedbackFilmFestival.com
Dating Tips for Everyone
Get me the wings
Enjoying Life in the Ozarks
Life Hacks and Advice
It is all about words. Your words are enough to shatter someone's heart. Your words are enough to make a broken heart unbroken. Words have the power to change your life perspectives.
voice_of_the_pen
Because one subject isn't enough
Dystopia, Postapocalyptic Fiction, YA and Writing for Writers
Infant Feeding. Breastfeeding. Parenting. Some rambling. Mostly fueled by caffeine.
Thought Catalog is a digital youth culture magazine dedicated to your stories and ideas.
Life in Copenhagen, Denmark, after moving during Covid-19.