i just think i could have been some one
hearing friends play joyfully
seeing them play one the grounds
then they realize
when they see
the black eyes
i miss it
the simple fun
the joy in life
i could have been some ones lover
i just lack the drive
they will not stop playing
just taking a rest
try to speak hopefully
but it bounces of my chest
i hunger
and they can't see anything
but my black heart
it's grey i trust
blackend by a dried blood crust
they call me a wizard
a warlock
a demon
a devil
but i never seem to be
a lover
a warm place
where some one could find peace
they joke and ask a profecy
they cling to their glasses
and drink the wine
although i am alone and hungry
this just suits me fine
i think
i will die alone
no one to call my love
no one here
no place to call home
i want to sleep
wake up
and see a loving face
a soft touch
a warm embrace
but somehow
it never is me
i see
monster, man, 47 jaar
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