Passion is a fake thing
Just like love
Still we need it
To survive in this
Complicated world
So full of traps and illusions
Just like ice cream is a
Substitute that
Becomes something
By itself
On Ice cream
Awakening
Stepping out into the real world
It’s cold as ice in the middle of summer
Shadowy and shrank,
Fake and pretentious
Breeding the rotten stench
That is real, reality
Frozen death in a box
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The State of Affairs
Terror is the name of the game
He or she is out there
Fighting in Iraq,
Venezuela or Afghanistan
While that old bastard
A coward and a bully,
Has the whole show
Not fit to tie the shoelaces of the true
Warriors, that is on duty
Day and night,
A warriors with honour
It’s he or she
That should have been President ,
Instead of being brought here to die
Like a dog in the sun.
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A Fake Life
To live without an income
Is to live in the shadow
Of other people’s money
Their will and their whim
Moves you around like
A puppet
The shame is great enough
To kill you, through you
In front of a train or tram
Instead you hide
Building a fake identity
That eventually becomes
What you are
Not solving, just hiding
Because the shame
Is so great
Where to start from that?
