| Author |
Message |
sweetknuddelteddy
Helferlein
 116
 Wien
W, 15
|
Sat, 19.Nov.05, 20:50 Namenloses Gedicht |
  |
Ich weinte,
aber niemand hörte mein Schluchzen
Ich saß da,
allein,
in einer kalten Ecke des Raumes,
weinte,
hörte auf, weil keine Tränen mehr kamen,
sah der Kerze beim Brennen zu,
und wünschte mir,
ich wäre jemand anders
Irgendwann machte ich die Augen zu,
weil ich wusste, ich war allein,
und es wurde wärmer,
weil ein Feuer brannte;
Ich wartete auf jemanden,
der nie kommen würde;
auf einen Menschen,
der mich in den Arm nehmen
und trösten würde;
Einer, der sagen würde:
"Ich bin ja da, ich bin ja da"
Ich wartete,
schlief ein,
das Feuer brannte weiter,
aber es wärmte mich nicht mehr.
Niemand kam.
Nicht, dass ich es gehofft hatte;
Lange zuvor hatte ich das Hoffen aufgegeben,
es lohnte sich nicht.
Aber dieses
"Ich bin ja da, ich bin ja da"
war etwas,
das ich so gerne gehört hätte.
Weil es mir gezeigt hätte,
dass ich noch lebte
Und dass ich nicht nur
umsonst
lebte.
|
|
|
 |
|
| Werbung |
|
sweetknuddelteddy
Helferlein
116
Wien
W, 15
|
|
Sat, 19.Nov.05, 20:55 Re: Namenloses Gedicht |
|
Again it's cold,
And I know,
everything is going to restart;
I kind of love it,
but I am also afraid;
When I hear Christmas songs,
I feel what I felt last year,
every single thing reminds me
of the hours and days one year ago.
The old strength is growing in me
again,
it makes me carry on,
makes me not happy,
not satisfied,
but something like that.
Again it's cold,
And I know,
Everything is going to restart;
I am not able to stop it,
maybe because I don't have enough will.
Will it get as far as last time?
Or will it be different?
I could cry when I think of it,
it makes me weak,
and sick,
but also strong and tough.
It's all-over confusing,
I kind of dance in a repetitive swirl;
Sometimes almost fall,
gain balance,
lift off,
fly.
Nothing counts but me,
and my game,
my rules,
myself.
Yes, you become selfish by-and-by,
but nobody said something on the contrary.
It really is something only for you
For noone else,
only for you.
For them,
who always did what they were told;
for them,
who never did what they really wanted;
for those,
who became ill by being suppressed,
but now they become ill by following their will.
It is a vicious circle.
Like being under drugs,
like being high;
You don't want to lose
Those moments of joy
The only moments of joy in such a life…
Conceptional,
logical.
Poor creatures,
poor me…
I am one of them
And even if I know the risks,
I want to live it.
Want to get those wings of mine,
those wings I can only get by doing this.
I want to be free,
but it sometimes seems so far away
I want to breath without chains
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom
To be independent,
even if it lasts only for a few gasps
And even
If it turns out to become the real
Dependency…
|
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
[Info]
116
Wien