Not often do I walk this path
As looking back I see no light
What others often call the truth of life,
I don't consider as delight

And struggleing back and forth I think
That maybe this no man loath
To look for somebody in life
To share the life ending moan

And maybe truth is just in words
And life considers it as dept
But walking back and forth I see
This struggle has no seeming end.

Benumbed I lie on the floor
Staring ferociously on the ceiling
Flecks of sunlight playing their
Daedelian games.
Wish I were one of them
Leaking into the rooms of strangers:
Lonely, catladies, family kitchens, new-born baby nurseries.
I would be welcomed everywhere.
Not likely now, not likely ever.