Listen to me
before you regret,
because if you do,
you've already the fret.

Listen to me
and let trust take it's time
as trusting to quick
is a severe crime.

Listen to me
and look at the signs
as betrayal is cruel
and runs long through your veins.

Listen to me
it could save your life:
Never pull back nor
let someone take your wife!

Listen to me
and before you get hurt
stop being gentle
and let others eat dirt.

Listen to me
as this is made as a gift
to let you survive
a life (not) worth to be lived.

It's cold outside,
rain falling down the sky,
foggy view, blurry sight,
I tremble with every step taken.

Not dream nor reality,
my consciousness fades,
words dance around their letters,
my beliefs collapsed.

Shapeshifting,
a brighter world sprouts,
limitless possibilities,
junctions merging their paths.

Efforts rewarded
with the sand of time,
barricades undone
time rewinds.

Splashs of water running down my face,
worlds drifting apart,
existence reentered,
my walk proceeds.

Sometimes you have to say farewell
to find a new way
to continue
your
life

Trees loosing her leaves
and time passing by.
Night is almost calling
appearing in the sky.

The last rays of sun,
a final farewell,
night is almost calling
as I'm already in my shell.

Goodnight life,
it was fun to play,
maybe we will play again
another life.

Everytime someone helps me or offers me something
I build up feelings of guilt and obligation and
I feel ashamed by disappointing the ones
which were nice to me before.

But in reality there is no debt, no obligation at all.
There are only decisions, decisions if you want to be obligated.
Forced upon you by yourself and the principles
you want to stay true in your life.

Do I follow my love? Do I follow my belief?
It's you, who decides, nobody else.
As it is your choice, as it is your responsibility,
shaping up the life you will have,
shaping up the life you will show.

Former goals long before gone,
broken dreams,
hidden in secret behind friends views,
a life in vain.

Doubtless efforts fruitless taken,
countless beatings endured,
still seeking path to milk and honey,
wondering if it hasn´t already resigned.

Value meaningless,
reduced to sheer nothingness,
clouded vision,
not able to recognize it´s worth.

Neither happiness nor sadness,
behind it´s emotionless face,
killing time with dusty distractions
and waiting for something to happen,
that relightens a fire
well known in former days.

Life isn't fair.
Sometimes it's taking more than it's giving.
Yell for justice, if you want or
dream of somebody saving you,
of someone giving you happiness
like buying it in a shop as a gift.
Get depressed, stay at home,
get isolated, get even more depressed,
get frustrated, get lost,
counting the chances passing by.

Life isn't complicated.
It's a complex simplicity, not a simple complexity.
Sometimes you win, sometimes you loose,
a simple truth of life,
you never learn in school from your teachers
or at home from your parents
or by listening to your friends
or watching anybody else.
It's something life tells
occasionally.

Life isn't serious.*
It tells you a joke almost every day;
a joke so surprisingely good, you will cry for months
a joke so intensely captivating, you won't be able to laugh
a joke so terrifyingly amusing, you cannot listen to it again
or it will burst your chest in hilariousness.
Laugh about it, loud and crazy,
don't retreat a chance to look,
as life's osbcure and obtrusive faible for grim sarcasm,
is always worth a level-up or two.*

Life is just living.
It's about hanging on, about clinging to it;
There is nothing special to it, no mysteries to be solved,
no desire and no craving, except you go for it.
It's a game you can't refuse without playing it anyway,
so trying to win is as good as loosing by doing nothing.
And when you are not satisfied with the outcome
or you always end up loosing despite your biggest efforts,
you can always change how, why and with who you play
and start anew.

Lately I walked deep into a forest near my house,
as I often spend there my afternoons and nights,
thinking about what happened in my life
and which of my available paths should be taken,
to lead me into future.

That's when I encountered a strange message
scratched in the bark of an old oak:
"Dear wanderer, please beware, as your life is on the line.
My wife, a very farseeing woman, went into these woods alone,
against my will, of course, as I have seen the dangers she might face,
Wolfes, inviting her nitty-gritty to a delicious meal,
Bears, rubbing their chubby cheeks at her,
Snakes, weaving wildly around her feet,
but most dangerous of all the whacky wicked witch,
keeping her from ever going back."

I remember sudden feelings of anxiousness and shiver
I had encountered only once before,
that was when a strange man came to my house
asking me if I had seen a pretty woman
with snowwhite hair and pretty face:
"I tried to find her all day and night long,
but I couldn't find her anywhere,
I fear my wife got lost - or worse...
as a whacky wicked witch is living here!"  

Lately I walked deep into a forest near my house,
as I often spend there my afternoons and nights,
thinking about what happened in my life
and who will be the next to come and visit
**me and my whacky wicked house.

No fear no pain,
nobody around me to share,
just the vast emptiness drowning
in an emotionless space
within everyday life.

I have encountered joy,
I have encountered pain,
I have encountered the deepest fears within me
only to see life as what it is
living an everyday life.

Nobody will scold me for my thoughts,
as I am seen by nobody,
in this city crowded
by millions of solitary souls
attached to everyday life.

The world around me: Day after day it looks the same.
I hear the noise of the workers drilling in the basement
and watch people doing their business.
Here or anywhere other, it's the same.

Sometimes I think I am trapped. Trapped in former decisions;
decisions which always tend to reveal their full impact later.
I think about the mistakes I made and regret - what futile task
as past always stays past, petrifying words yelled and unspoken.

I'm not ungrateful - given my past suffering.
I'm not moaning - given freedom from my former pain.
I'm not unhappy - given that I was already happier tough.
I'm not doing nothing - given that it may look different to you.

Finally I got rid of this **** anxiety, which haunted me
from my first days at school to my last job,
these devastating thoughts of having to be better than everyone,
of being more, of deserving more
they just ate away at my soul
tearing myself apart
before hyenas did
their part.

Once upon a time we were lovers,
we used to talk to each other lovely and respectful.
Fell into each others arms, hugging deeply,
making the pain of life worthwile for living now.

What happened to you, my little red riding hood?
Did the wolf catch you and bite his fangs into our bond
or was it you who wanted to get bitten, looking for it yourself?

What happened to you, my little red riding hood, please tell me,
so that I can see clearly through this forest of lies
you have planted upon what we were once.

Once upon a time I lived in a fairy tale
with bloomy colours all along my way,
not realizing it could end almost anytime
I let a gloomy wolf fade it into grey.

My stomach aches.
It's been quite a while since my stomach ached
and I knew, something was wrong
with me.
Demons dangling.
soul shivering.
heart breaking.
life crushing.
I didn't know what happened to me
back then,
and just roughly do I know it
now.

I used her, when I first met her
like a doll, like a puppet
a toy for pleasure, a plaything for my lust.
Later on I
adored her,
protected her,
trusted her,
loved her,
but I never said 'I love you',
till it was too late.
It was a sunny day
when you backstabbed me.

Sis say I've changed now,
but I am still the same man;
I just learned to understand valuing what I have
and not giving it away
carelessly.
Shame you, shame your decision
shame me, shame my tolerance
shame him, shame his sadism
shame you all and your egoism.
Lost my love, lost my job, lost myself
I'm trying to make better,
to grow,
fighting the enemy hidden
within us.

Everybody said, it would become easier over time.
Told me, that everything will work out fine,
when I just live my life without thinking
at all the things that happened before.
Told me, life just means living
without regrets or sorrows
enjoying every day
to the fullest.  

Sometimes  
I believe you tight.
In times with all of you
my negative thoughts fade
and you all may see me smile.
Those are the times I am free again
being the one that you force me to be
in order to see you smile, my dear friends.    
    
Those are the times you can see me alive,
vividly bright and charmingly light;
but those times became rare lately.
Frankly spoken I lost my hope
of something ever to change
and regaining the colour
forcefully bleached
out of my life.

Just felt my heart beating like crazy
as I got kissed by ecstasy
living right here right now
in the center of life.

every step an adventure
every path a story
every person a rainbow
every experience a chance

I**f you are invited to dance
then dance all night all day
never stop turning, never stop jumping
as life´s music never stops.

Again I'm sitting at my parent's home
nothing changed so far
putting the desk in front of me
and the furniture behind
like it was back in the old days.

I listen to the ticking of our pendulum clock,
bought by my grandfather and given to my dad
when he was around the age I am now,
while the rain keeps falling
like it was back in the old days.

Back in the old days
I dreamed of so many things
still full of wishes, heart at ease
like it only could have been by a child
watching the november rain.

I once saw a little bird.
It was shy at first, when I approached.
Stepping back with every step I took,
I could see my wishes fade.

I tried the next day and the day after
but the result didn't change.
Neither I nor the bird seemed to understand
each other.

After awhile I stopped.
I sat down and just smiled at it.
And as the days went on and on
I stopped thinking.

"You should have tried harder,
coming closer day by day", a friend said,
telling me I had given up in the middle,
leaving an opportunity, wasted.

Grateful for his advice I replied, that he was right.
I could have tried longer and could have pushed harder
and maybe one day I would have come closer
even close enough to catch this little guy.

"You se...", he wanted to say, when I interrupted him:
"... but you know", I calmly said, *"I just forgot about this bird,
because I had already found a friend to sit around and share
some beautiful moments together."

Yesterday morning
I envied your ambition into your studies and that you finished school with such good results.
I respected you for the kindness you showed to each and everyone and
I admired the massive amount of compassion residing inside you.
I smiled at your youthful craziness with which you lightened my life.
I protected you as much as I could, even if I looked like a desperate idiot.
... yesterday morning I loved you.

Yesterday evening
I labeled your words as lies and marked the actions that identified them.
I shooked my head in disbelief over your efforts to get rid of your kind and passionate self, thus
I smirked diabolically, knowing that you will never find peaceful happiness by his side.
I rendered myself in agony over the things you had done without even caring a bit about me and
I looked with disgust at the face of yours, wishing I could fill it with pain and sorrow.
... yesterday evening I hated you.

Today
I woke up with an aching head, having drunk too much at the party the night before.
I remarked the ray of sunlight dancing on the new pictures I put on my wall the week before.
I checked my account showing the last payment after I got fired at work the month before.
I repeated the moves which we learned in self defense courses I started three months before.
I looked in the mirror staring at the man you ditched six months before.
... today everything was without you.

*But why is it then, that I still can't forget you?

I'm a broken man,
breaking your life,
crushing your heart,
if you come too close to me.

I'm a broken man,
you are fascinated of,
hoping to help me,
with myself.

I'm a broken man,
living in stupid dreams,
ignoring my world
till it's broken itself.

Your best things in life you always recognize
when you already have lost them on your way.
Stupid life, stupid love, stupid you, stupid me.
History repeats, everything always the same
no lesson drawn out of the mistakes you've made.
Life goes on, with changed conditions,
rushing along the wrongs you've lost yourself.

Look! - Don't lower your head

Learn! - For your own sake and the sake of your beloved

Remember! - And keep looking at what you've lost  

because in time your pain will fade along
the good memories already gone away.
Cities rebuild, which once were destroyed,
closed doors reopened again.
As time passes nothing ever stays the same,
so make sure something still does,
letting you remember what you've lost.

My dear,

Lately there has been a change of my heart, a change of my feelings towards you, my dear. It encountered it first a few days before in the evening, and now It's the first time I encounter it in the morning and I can see, that because of your betrayal my feelings have changed from love to disgust. You might not see it this way, but you betrayed me as a lover, which is a bad thing, but also as a friend of yours, which is much worse. You poor lonely girl. You think you did yourself anything good? You think, you have found with him a fond lover, a man you can count and trust on more than you could me? I have news for you: What you have is a man without honor, a liar, someone torturing other's because for his own sake. And such a man is not capable of loving as he is looking at everything just as his personal playthings. Not more, not less.

I am not mad at you, nor am I admiring you neither. Not more at least. I pity you because you let yourself being fooled, let yourself being taken any worth and pride you had, just because you are begging to be loved by someone. And I did love you, of course. Even lots of years younger than me, having seen as good as nothing of the darkness of the world we live in, I admired you for the girl you are and the woman you would have become... if you wouldn't have thrown everything away in an instant, sacrificing me for someone padding your head, telling you whatever necessary to turn you around.

When we met last week, I was still too much of a lover. Because you are still to close to me. I respect the feelings I once had for you, but you are no longer the woman I fell in love with. Not that the woman I fell in love would have seen through his manipulative acts, but she would have seen my suffering. She would have thought twice about tossing me away and taking a lier instead, as you knew all along, that he was telling lies. And that's the reason why you are still weak, as weak as I was when I hurt you too much. But while I've tried to change and become strong you will remain week as long as you refuse to change, staying by his side and excusing his behaviours, thus supporting his destructive and inhuman being.

At least there is still hope for you.
It's because you still didn't cut every connection to your former self that is still around you.
It's because your compassion has still roots inside of you, even if you shed everything having grown of it so far.
It's because you acknowledged, that it was pretty unfair when you left me to rot in your absence, while you already had someone to carry you on.

Finally it's always you to decide. Are you ready to face the difficult route or will you still take the easier one? Only one gives you the strength to look into your mirror, facing yourself standing upright, looking at yourself with pride.

Your former love

I am tired and the raindrops keep falling
while the black night stares outside in at me.
The light gets shady with every minute
and round me everything begins to fade.

The only thing that matters still,
the only thing that counts,
is your loving smile at me,
for it is what me really astounds.

You showed me your tumblr blog
and made me read your mind,
thus showing me another yours,
so far I still was blind.

The only thing that matters still,
the only thing that counts,
is being here and writing for you
hoping it fixes some of your wounds.

A look at your face reveals your tiredness
but you still fight for my prize,
as you already know from me,
that keeping up would be wise.

The only thing that's matters still,
the only thing that counts,
is how you will react to them,
these words released from their bounds.