Winter

Hate is a good thing

The more the better

Keeps your blood boiling

In cold weather

Anger keeps you going

in the fading light of a dying sun

Hope left us for warmer weather

Now we are here alone

In the white death

Feeding only of strong emotions

Nothing more

Or less

Soon we are all going to be dead

But before that

Before that

Let us find a warm place

Where we can

Rejoice and find love

In the sun

The hated house

Every day is the same

People walking by outside

Not taking notice of the hated house

The owner want it gone, but the city

wants it to stay since it been that way

For more than hundred years

So they fight about the might

Year after year

The owner closed shop after shop

Never taking care about the life that is here

The house strives on and for sure it won’t

Soon be gone, but neglected takes its toll

And it makes love fall but what can be done

The house has no choice it stays where it is

Saturday

I hate Saturdays

That meaningless day

Just sleep and quarrel with my love

That I hate

No hope just a day that needs to pass

As quickly as possible and everyone is depressed

In the family

Outside in the real world things are so different

With so much gratitude that I have that that world

exist

Paincollector

This day so filled with heavy burdens
And frustration I tried to climb out of the pit I am in
I feel so much pain

My children are denied their love
And I am stuck in put together a protokoll
That I said I do it to be nice, to be good, to be loved

I do not like myself today
I feel so deeply ashamed
I just want to get rid of the text
And forget who I amIMG_1994

Separation

So now we finally hate each other
me and she
I had enough long time ago
keeping quiet
keeping patient
I hate her
she hates me
so I guess we are even

On Suicide

When I finally
take my act
together 
and finally
decide to 
kill my self
a lot of people
will rejoice
they will feel
happy
we finally made
that strange and awkward man die
we finally will be 
more normal

My family will say
he were a difficult personality
a piece of work 
that could not 
and maybe should not exist
in modern society 
Let us now enjoy ourself 
In order to celebrate I 
suggest that you may
put my ashes in the garbage
I did never ask to exist
I did never ask to be
Life is pain
Life is suffering
And each day is another
reason to end life
There are no help to be had
but the spring comes anyway 

Burn

Empty and badly burned
I entered the church of medicine 
The doctors looked at me
in the terror and contempt
I drank therefore I have to suffer
And deserves to suffer
Love is not here
but hate is good to have
as a companion at night

The hate keeps us awake
and helps us
But love will end the world

Dry tubers

I hope they burn in Hell
all the suffering
they inflicted on me and everyone else.
I Hate them
I hope they suffer now
thats it
The mercury that might be my memory
Of what they did to me 
Has slipped through my fingers
Only small parts remain
under the snow

Hate

Nothing left

Only that 

and 

some other things

to keep me 

occupied until the day

I forget them