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Dicra with an E Oct 2020
In a world of passports that take ages,
In a society of techtouch and airtalk,
In a land of miles,
I choose to travel,
Miles after miles,
In the ink of my pages.

From the sycamore to the most horrific bridges,
From a rotten society to civilization,
From dreams to reaps,
I choose to travel,
Path after path,
In the ink of my pages.

When I cannot turn,
When I can run nowhere,
When I want to hide,
I choose to travel,
Thick after thick,
In the realm of my pages.
Clindballe Nov 2014
Monotone stemmer og opgave ark
i tusinde eksemplarer hjemsøger
mine drømme om ingenting.
Det hele smelter sammen
som metaller i ild
og det er der jeg ser dig.
Du hiver metalmassen ud af ilden
og kaster den ned på gulvet
hvor det ligger
som en stor rødglødende pøl
midt i det hele.
Du tænker ikke over
at jeg svøber metaller
i en skabelon
af mit hjerte.
Written: November 6. - 2014
lidt dansk igen.

— The End —