Summarised

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Recently two poets past away that I loved dearly, one of them would even be my wife now if she still had lived.. But, bad things happen.. This text gives a small insight in the current status of my being since both poets died..

Submitted: July 25, 2010

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Submitted: July 25, 2010

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Seen the circumstances I now cannot write what I would want to write, because I no longer know now what is true without eyes. Love is the most beautiful thing there is and nice is different I should say, and again there are tears and I lose a bit of myself in the rain of living. The question is thus what am I waiting for? I'm ripe for the strap, but I evade the wicks of the mill and fight myself through the walls of time, like leaden water cursing at the flows of the sea, I together enjoy the gull ballet in the undergoing sun somewhere at the coast of Belgium and France where I got the visions of the slaps already before they could be distributed. And therefore I already stand with furore in my shoes and mix the farce with the myth to don't have to see the reality of Oidipiet in the eyes. For that I am mortal stands outside of the scold, but my power as living makes me able to lift the curtain and still give as many encores and bows as I like, because I am so god-for-saken glad that I'm alive on this stage of poets, writers and life appreciators. I say you amen. I live my way.


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