Thursday, July 9, 2015


How silly this can be,
Acting so happy,
When all I got,
For a hard days work,
Was nothing more,
And nothing less,
Then a thin press,
Piece of paper,
To be drawn,
Signed and preserved,
With all the care,
In my world,
Only to show,
That I might know,
What I am talking about?
That I have a mind?
When I wonder to myself...
Is working for a,
Paper stamp that says,
Something so dumb,
Like that you are smart enough,
To pass trough,
Not mindless at all?
We all have a mind,
We all know what we are,
Talking about,
We analysed it before we spoke,
Who ever decided,
That in a way so unnaturally,
We best would be to study,
Cause I really do wonder,
Who is more happy?
The fool on the street,
Or I dragging my feet.

A mirror does not, know you, at all.

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