Mishaps

I did not know if I did

Anything wrong or

Just happened

To be in her way

Everything from that point on

Was my fault

Again and again

For the last ten years

What an awful way

To waste ones life

The Parasite

So I been told

All through the night

How bad I am

“You are a parasite”

The parasite told me

While sucking

My blood

“You used me”

She said taking

My money and hope

“Love me, why don’t

You love me

Now I am burned out

Because of you”

While running around

In circles blaming

The world

Pitying herself

The Rare End

Projecting power in an aggressive way

The devil is not in the details

But more in the attitude

Contemptuous,

Believing to be superior

And in the same time submissive

Maybe the flip side of the coin

Fighting Spirit

The conflicts start

early in the morning

Promising a miserable day

Every move and action we take is a

part of a bigger pattern

So is the conflicts as well

It is all in the open to read

Still we go into a

Relationship with open eyes

Blinded for the longterm suffering

Round trip

Eventually we all

Bounce back to ourselves

Are old personality

Shines through as

Our weaknesses and faults

When the conditions

Gets bad enough

But when we are

There at the bottom

Then what do we do?

A Stench of Paradise

Just being here

Trapped on a small island

In the wast emptiness of the mind

Another slow day

In the summer

A day so still that we are

Creating conflicts as a pastime

Running around in our own mind

Tearing down Paradise

Review

So I been told

All through the night

How bad I am

“You are a parasite”

The parasite told me

While sucking

My blood

“You used me”

She said taking

My money and hope

“Love me, why don’t

You love me

Now I am burned out

Because of you”

While running around

In circles blaming

The world

Pitying herself

Flowering

Long time ago
I had the idea of flowering
To have flow being creative
But I did not find
My strength here
And succumb to other
People’s desires
Trying to please
And being a part
Always losing out
No flowering for me

The Death of The Good Man

The frustration merges

After a long time

To strength not

Anger anymore

Crying does not matter anymore

I never asked to live here

Or even to be born at all

It is just pain and plain numbness

Humiliation and exploitation

I don’t want to save or help anymore

It is just a reason for other people

To take advantage of you

Tensed

She comes home

After a day at the office

Filled with frustration

And ave

Being the trapped

Using us as a bin

For her frustration

Tensed and aggressive

Only the sleep will relieve us