Poetic Études

The Passing Time

Hollow, damned, black-coaled place:

I feel alone but yet surrounded,

Suffocating in the vain.

I need the people like I need to breathe -

          Not every person lets you, though.

Some just deprive you of all air and go away.

I'm bored, I'm bored to death

By all the same and every day,

By lazy, childish play,

By ignorant, not caring ones,

By being - feeling - wanting to be invisible

Among the balding, bony wolves.

I want some air, space and time.

I want some silence for the thoughts of mine.

I want to love and live and shine -

          And not to feel the passing time.