I have looked the sun straight in they eye
I was invited, he said he'd got nothing to hide
So I took off my glasses and I took a good look
At what I'd just yesterday mistook
For an ordinary ball of light
No glamour, no spite
Yet now the Sun of suns was in my sight
And I felt my whole foundation shook
So I peeled off my skin and I threw it away
So that I may live in the land of forever day.
Short, straight-to-the-core poems with a sincere message and a restless theme of pondering. These poems are thoughts with a rhyme-scheme and therefore never a like, but always in some way concluding something. Well read!
mandag den 19. november 2012
tirsdag den 13. november 2012
Conclusion by poetry
What if this life was just a cartoon
as dark as the moon
Would we be the heroes on a flying ship
Controlled by a chip
I should fly and save the world
my ego so twirled
These faces are much too beautiful
all, too, so hurtful
Maybe the cartoonists should leave the rest
only design the crest
And to all of us leave the best
making this life not a cartoon
... But a contest
as dark as the moon
Would we be the heroes on a flying ship
Controlled by a chip
I should fly and save the world
my ego so twirled
These faces are much too beautiful
all, too, so hurtful
Maybe the cartoonists should leave the rest
only design the crest
And to all of us leave the best
making this life not a cartoon
... But a contest
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lørdag den 10. november 2012
Depression With a Rhyme-Scheme
I long to live out my dreams,
but reality is as reality seems,
it's hard work and occasional breakdowns
usually it just feels like acting silly in front of clowns..
I guess the true story is;
It will probably always be like this.
but reality is as reality seems,
it's hard work and occasional breakdowns
usually it just feels like acting silly in front of clowns..
I guess the true story is;
It will probably always be like this.
fredag den 5. oktober 2012
De nætter
Sleepless
nights are the hardest,
But I
get it;
It’s
when the mind wants to sleep but the heart is
Hoping
for a bigger thrill.
To Measure Oneself
Sometimes the world seems so twisted,
Sometimes it only takes one thing to fuck you
up,
At these times it can truly be measured,
What you’re really made of.
torsdag den 27. september 2012
Make(Fake)-Up
Det kan nok være så fin en kunst,
at komme al slags maling i hovedet,
men jeg tænker om ikke Gud havde os ondt',
at vi kunne være maling foruden.
at komme al slags maling i hovedet,
men jeg tænker om ikke Gud havde os ondt',
at vi kunne være maling foruden.
onsdag den 5. september 2012
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