This is the day
When I am going
To pay for my
Deeds
I don´t care
It does not
Matter
Anymore
I don´t care
About your little world
The place that is always
In perfect order
Patterns of recognition
Putting myself together
Trying to see the pattern
Again and Again
Repeating and Repeating
Things, dreams
Fears
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New day
The days passes quickly
The pain remains
It is just getting worse
I look out of the window
The spring birds sings
And I am still here in
The darkness fighting
My demons
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Camino
So while the days move slowly
And the sun had it´s way
crossing the sky
I forgot
Like the rest of us
Why I live here
I did not enjoy
The purple morning
Or the white daylight
Nor did I see the different colours of the trees
Just busy doing things
That makes no difference or anyone happy
God punished me
With the inability to do any progress
Now I am a refugee on the camino
Looking for shelter and purpose
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The island
Closing all my senses
For the obvious
I acted like a fool
Only to realize it
Afterwards
Thus works the subconscious
And I only watch the disaster
From afar, safe but sad on the shores
of my lonely island
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Failure
Poem to life, travelÂ
We waited,
and waited in vain
no one came
It were just us
With our intention
to do good work
That no one wanted
to have
We give and give
but what does it matter
We are all lost anywayÂ
The snow is still here
and the winterÂ
Soon the war
will start
And no one will
rememberÂ
these lines
Schibolet 