The Coming of Age

I am lost here

Without leverage

Just a lot of servitude

And empty actions

Life is so filled

With frustration

I am to old

To start something

Or to young to

Understand anything…


Fighting a hopeless war

Losing on all sides

Still it keeps me standing

Hoping to stay out of servitude

So tired, really tired

Serving the need of others

Their lazy life tears me apart

Their fulfilment of repeating

Destructive pattern are destructive

I wish I had been different myself

Meeting oneself in others trashes me

To pieces, still I try to purify myself

In this cesspool, this fountain of dirt