I go through all the letters I never send
and I think about all the time I spend
on writing them and rewriting them.
Because I was never happy with the result.
I'm still not happy with it, it's awful, man.
I always knew that I wouldn't send them,
but still, there was something, hope.
I thought that I would find the courage
to send them, somewhen.
Now I'm sitting in my room,
reading all the letters.
My hope is gone.
I'm fine with it or at least I thought that.
I don't want to die alone.
I don't want to cry alone.
But everyone's gone.
I am alone.
I cry alone.
I die alone.
DU LIEST GERADE
Gedankenwirbel • Poesie
PoetryManchmal gibt es Zeiten, ganz weit weg vom reiten, in den ich gerne Reime, auch wenn sie nicht unbedingt besser sind als deine, vielleicht gefallen sie dir ja auch, manchmal ich auch nur Ablenkung brauch. Vielleicht reist du ja gerne mit mir, aber...
