Freitag, 23. November 2012

Behind the door

Behind the door
an answer is awaiting
a question
that was not asked by me
so far,
a question is listening
to my breath
ask me
ask me
to the wall
behind the door.
The days run quietly
the tears
into a valley
behind the door
love is waiting
for her call
an answer is listening
for a question
without sense
asking itself
Only this
is progress
into a valley of hope.
Behind the door
runs a river
a wild river
of common opinions
into every opened mouth
and drowns every question
not asked
so far.

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