by Ronja | |
Published on: Dec 6, 2006 | |
Topic: | |
Type: Poetry | |
https://www.tigweb.org/express/panorama/article.html?ContentID=9499 | |
Watch the flower tilt its head Tears stream down your face You kneel upon your broken bed And don't want to leave a trace With caution you undo the knife That cuts your flesh and pierces life Drops of blood, laugh and cry, Laugh at your suicide, No, please, please, help me die Flocks of sheep, a knowing sigh Stain the walls of your heaven, This is what you chose Maybe it’s forsaken Satin curtains close Watch the flower fall into the tomb Finding peace upon the knife That cut you out your mothers womb And lastly took your life You lay upon your broken bed Tears have stained your face And you know now, half dead, that - you had to leave a trace. « return. |