My Song

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

On Different Types of Madness

There are many different

Forms of madness

In this world

Many things to fear

But why waste time

On that

Life is dangerous

Everybody die

In the end

Madness might cure

The mind or makes it

Worse

New Things and Attractions

Opening the fun fair again

Filled with dysfunctional

Family attraction

Ready to turn your life

Upside down

Just outside the town

For the whole world

To look at

And be so amused

While you are getting abused

Hurray hurray

Is our dysfunctional family show

Tonight

Just pay and enjoy

Be happy that you don’t

Have to play in this ploy

The Patriarch Circle

I recognise that story

The old patriarchy decides

What is right and wrong

Good and bad,

The other people stays silent

In the background

Avoiding conflicts at all cost

No contact with the contender

The incumbent patriarch

Rules until he falls down and die

Less and less flexible over time

The end comes and

The new patriarch repeat

The pattern

Maybe it is time to break this

Patten once and for all

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

Saturday From Hell

This evening she hated me deeply

She had made the choice

To have a really bad day

Because I was not there

They stayed at home all day

Because of the rain and the total inability

To take the bus

Maybe I deserved it

Defining me as a small man

Deserving to die in a snowpack

She spat on me while my daughter

Who sat in my lap

No inhibitions at all

How bad I was

I needed psychiatric help

And then as always

Like a hand that turned

She was so sad, her colleague

Had not done enough

I put my daughter to sleep

Waiting for the next act

Of the bipolar drama