children, Literature, Poem, poems, poetry

Epitaph on the death of M.

I feel like I’m being killed
by an invisible dagger
What is it?
My soul? Maybe –
Is my soul in my brain
mechanical doll
can’t stand straight
and look in the eye of the
danger

at the cemetery
at the grave
it’s dark
but I can’t feel anything
It’s foggy and dull
I’m looking into the hollow eyes of nothing
she is dead

What does that mean?
there
really
d.e.a.d
it is inexplicable

things like that were not supposed to happen

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catholic church, children, Literature, Poem, poems

Dream without a dream

I’ 12 and I’m very depressed

love fantasy

jesus

pills

creating an altar

but my sister is not into religion

orange carpet

and I

loneliness

almost masculine

harsh

the imagination

of the catholic church

is rigid

i need more spring

more spring flowers and water

but not to holy mary

this men in white gowns must be very sad

priests

boys in entrapment

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betrayal, catholic church, children, Literature, poetry, satirical poetry, Song

Exile

M

I wish I was a murderer
they are very cool
what can I do what can I do

I wish I could slaughter and be applauded by friends
but I am weak and faint

There is nothing I can do about my constitution
I also don’t agree with prostitution

I need to go to the hills
wearing my high heels

With all those terribly boring people
who don’t kill

That’s the end of my stupid song
I’m going to become friends
with a Christian monk

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betrayal, children, Culture, friendship, gangsters, hate, Literature, love, peace, Poem, poems, poetry, politics, unity, war

This is a war, honey – what a shame.

It was a dream about us being those special sandpit friends

in a nice love-unity

and joy

of building something

together

without hitting each other with a spade on the head

and scheming to destroy your underground tunnels

when everything seemed to go great

conspiring with the district gang

how to win over me

I had a dream of us being different then them

But those things are impossible

how could I forget that you are the only child

all this mistrust

and

ego trips

I retreat

to the very end of the park

to talk with the sunshine instead

and play with pebbles and dirt

but then

the anger at your murderous betrayal

hits me

so

I

watch you and your gang

delaying my revenge

don’t you think I forgot

about hate

not yet

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