Midnight Poem

The turning point

Was not a turning point

Just a reason to move on

In the same direction

Restless and relentless

Trying to solve

The same problem

The same way as before

The Poem at midnight

Will not tell you that story

Again, sorry

The Price of Wisdom

Wisdom is hard to earn

The name of the currency

Is your life

Is your hope

That is hard to handle

This is not what I dreamed of

But this is my destiny

To pay a price

So high

That I will never make it

In the real world

That is the price of being

Called “Wise”

Blocked

Life did not give me many choices

When anxiety eats your mind

Limiting the options

Still I am here

Day by day

Weaker and balder

The Voices In The Head

Listening to the cliches in my head

If I believed in them I would be dead

When you are young

They are installed

By hammer and nail

In your head

They tell how to be

And that you are not free

They say it is

All in the family

Just the mosquitoes stay free

But the older you get

The more wrong

It gets to be

And you realize

That you never will get free

From the voices in the head

Until you are dead

Downsizing

Stepping down

From the position

Good life and money

Needed

The same old story

Repeated again and again

We start out rather well

But the waves takes the beach

Soon the land and safety is gone

Only water remains

Were there once stood a city

Land is hard to keep

When the sea is at work

Long will it be remembered

In legends and fairy tails

Round trip

Eventually we all

Bounce back to ourselves

Are old personality

Shines through as

Our weaknesses and faults

When the conditions

Gets bad enough

But when we are

There at the bottom

Then what do we do?

The Maze

When ones mind is restless

Wandering, meandering

Away

Quickly to unknown destinations

Into the past or present even the future

Late at night or early morning

When small things becomes big

And big things small

Know then that this too

Shall pass

And leave the mind to itself