My life is not reality
That is just stiff and stark
I don’t expect fatality
When days are cold and dark
I don’t want that my ill fate
Would stand at close range
I fear it to be late
To sense a blow of change
My home is not museum
Of relics and antique
It’s not a coliseum
If so, it’s threat fatigue
I don’t want that old-fashioned
Thoughts made me odd and strange
I fear to be ancient
And miss a blow of change
My love is not stupidity
That is afraid to tread
It flies with mad rapidity
And spins a wavy thread
I don’t like a smooth road,
Withdraw and estrange
From share of the load,
And stop a blow of change
August 2008
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