02-10-2009 om 09:52 geschreven door thea

28-09-2009 om 00:22 geschreven door Uilenspiegel

25-09-2009 om 16:00 geschreven door ludovikus

23-09-2009 om 21:49 geschreven door bo

constantly

walking over

narrow bridges

but without god

towards his place of birth

sometimes he stops

and looks around

his look

of the thinnest

- red -

knows all my heart's secrets

he isn't small

but also not tall


-in his worn out suit-

-tailored by the wind-

he carries it all

in me

with him the look

wrinkled

by my heavy breath

like a quiet passer-by

twenty years

ago

already

striking

the likeness

-now-

I only notice

that it

is him

that it is

me

he's still standing there

but

still I can't find him anymore

I wonder

if I know him

23-09-2009 om 21:46 geschreven door bojako

23-09-2009 om 14:01 geschreven door camille

22-09-2009 om 15:36 geschreven door thea