When I was small, a playing youngster
The role provocative beneath the hall
I was not thinking just one minute
About the price of our idleness at all
I played my game without disruption
My brain full of ignorant disregard
I wondered the results of action
My pockets filled but not my heart
The games can run, no interruption
Can´t stop them as eternity
Where will I take the poor conclusion?
To kill soft friends was not my destiny.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Klaus Meier.
Published on e-Stories.org on 04.03.2014.
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