Solrig forårsdag

Hvor er det fedt, at være ubesværet
Jeg må sige, at jeg ligefrem er helt beæret
Se mig verden! Jeg er single og fri!
Helt uden brug for kæreste-empiri
Ha, siger jeg bare, hverken ensom eller ked
- jeg er da bare min helt egen store kærlighed!

Love Is...

Green and purple slimy hearts
Pulsating shaping your name
Rotting disgusting smelly farts
Is the fragile frame
Which keeps us sane

They told me that love was a marvellous thing
A great blizzard of pink snow and thunder
But as I lay dying in your cums unchanging stink
I can only seem to wonder
About the tragedy that lies yonder

It's funny how a poet can only seem to describe
The flabbergastering truth that love hides
And it's gooly how, when you find it you do
Realize with regret that love is indeed
Only too good to be true

Deprived of positive thinking

The moon
 the dark side of the moon
The stars, the snow
 they glitter at noon
The universe
 the universe contradicts me
But why
 am I lost so easily?
It all adds up
 it all makes sense
There is no moon
 there is no conscience
 there is no coincidence

There is no noon.

Pretty

If i climb high enough
Into heaven
and bring down a piece of it
maybe seven
Could you believe me then
Proof in hands
or would your blindness of heart
contaminate the chance
of ever convincing you
To see
What I see
Just be
What you are and can be

Pretty.

Revelation

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.

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

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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.