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.

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.

Does muscles make me strong?
I may look more attractive,
be able to lift heavier stuff,
and do more damage in a fight...
but I may still feel sad,
still not be able to talk to the girl I love,
and still get hurt in a fight.

Does knowledge make me strong?
I may know more than anyone else,
be able to find a solution for every problem,
and get the job I always wanted to have...
but I still might have no friends,
still not get a result without flaws,
and still get bullied at work.

Does wealth make me strong?
I may have a big house with garden around,
be able to hire people for every task I have
and buy anything I ever want...
but I still may feel lonely around,
still not stop people from leaving me,
and still not get rid of feeling emptiness inside.

*So is there really nothing that can make me strong?