No day has to do it without sentence without text
I do not wear myself out.
If I do not write, something is absent for me.
hurt too much.
Wants to see you / it also does not want again
what this is only for a desolate poem...
Try anew, reject also fast.
You are not with me: it puts out to me what
The other is not absent long ago any more
but again more different has taken his place.
I make a wretched Poem again new
Without shyness and without regretting`
Laughing and it is like in trance
I hope very much
I lose with the thinking not completely the Balanc.
Will he read, does he become get to know `n.?
One cannot know, would like to suppose:
Nonsense, he deals other.
Just, therefore, it makes nothing if I mix
How the maps my thoughts, feelings
Since sometime this does not become any more happen `n....
Whether still counts in another world
What we here thought, planned.
At what we have laughed and have also been angry sometimes?
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Meike Schrut. Published on e-Stories.org on 27.09.2009.