Morning

I have hard to stand on my feet
The ground shakes
I try to focus
And she is talking
about the neighbours
their plans and projects
I threw up in the zink
She doesn’t notice
Complaining eternally
About me not doing
My part
I try to stay on my legs
Keep together
She keeps talking
I dress and walk
Out the door
She is in the living room
Reading the newspaper
Not noticing that I left
My feet still carries me
On the way to the crowded
Metro
Let´s turn this day
Into a succes I tell myself
Trying to get some breakfast
We are masks that meet and sell
Fewer and fewer of us
Turns up but we pretend
As everything is OK
Smiling in contempt to one another
Smiling in frustration
Pretending that this meeting has
A meaning and a cause
At least it is some normality
Even if it is fake
We have to prepare
For what is coming
When the war comes
We will in one way or the other
Need each other
If nothing else for company and food

Advertisements
About

I am who I was when I wrote this text but I do not know if I exist now. I am from Scandinavia where the arctic starts and the world ends.

Tagged with: , , , , ,
Posted in #blogg100, 2017, Black, frustration, Poem, Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: