So you wrote for your drawer...

                *   *   *

So you wrote for your drawer, and nobody'll know it for ever,
Why it was that you hid all your books from that crowd outside.
But the spring once comes in and will scatter henceforth your endevours -
Scanty savings of souls that would not lean their face and abide.

Try to flee if you can. Or, if brave, try to stay here,
And it would be much safer, if you sealed your mouth all for good.
But what's said is what's said, and these boots will be heard by your entrance -
So well-known to all those who don't sleep night by night in this mood.

If it's death, fall outside and be never again in these places
Where they don't wait for ones crying deep and being slacked on their ride.
Though flight off isn't escape, for whenever you flee covering traces
Still you cannot escape from these thoughts which you used to hide.

You will never escape from BEING OTHER, from making decisions
As from freedom that costs you so dear but gives nothing but rumple...
Someone will throw splits of your pity outside of the window,
And here're they. Having come to relieve you from worries and trouble.

11th of May 2015