On Ice cream

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

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

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.

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?