This is a mans worth (Ins@ne beim dichten)

[-[IoI]-Ins@ne]

(wie scheisse kann es einem eigentlich gehen, dass er ein trauriges Gedicht nach dem anderen postet und ein Ende noch nicht abzusehen ist?)

lost reflextions

Today I looked in the mirror when I saw a dim face,
so full of pain, sadness and without any grace.
After I saw that, I know it was true,
that this person was cold and embittered because of you.
What I saw when I looked in these eyes,
was not a brave hero, it was a boy who cries,
He cried because is body was one single pain,
he shouted for help, but become only insane.
As I looked deeper in this eyes full of fear,
something broke in me, I could not cry one single tear.
Now I'm asking what is this for,
why does he stand here, inside my mirror?
I don't want to see this face, I want to run away,
but my spirit was captured, my legs want to stay.
"Dare you to run away from me, I've got something to tell",
these words were not mine, they came from hell.
From a hell inside the mirror, as far as I've seen,
this hell was my face, it must it has been.
This face began to tell me a tragic story,
the story of a man and how he felt sorry.
Sorry because he opened his heart for a girl,
she was his holy treasure, his valuable pearl.
He would have given his life to save her smile,
but before she realized that, it took her a while.
In this time she saw him as a friend,
as a lovely guy her god had sent,
a guy who's there when she needed his touch,
a guy who disappaers when it's her too much.
She never thought this guy could have feelings as well,
she never knew she put him into heaven into hell.
Well, someday it came to it,
to that relation the guy could not fit,
he told her he wished to be more than her friend,
the answer was no, so it came to an end.
An end with two loosers desterny's proud of,
one lost his friend, the other his love.
Now both of them are hiding there feelings and are all alone,
too proud to admit needing each other, too weak to make it on there own.
How it will go on with them, the mirror kept as a secret,
but I fear the answer as I'm now lying in my bed.
I don't know if I can stand up,
trying my feelings for you to stop,
because every single new morning,
I must hear this story, hear this warning.
The warning from the mirror not to be fooled by this horrible game,
but I'm inside it, it is always the same.
Can't go back, can't stand, I must go on,
over and over again hearing that you're gone,
but obviously you're saved in my head,
so I admit I must be really in love, or simply dead.



Vielleicht mein letztes Gedicht, ich habe es satt so zu denken, so zu fühlen und so zu leben...