write: Szymon

Pm₃₉

Spikes grow out of my mouth,
sharp needles shot on sight,
I try to pick them out, but
I cannot stop their growth

I'm locked in the confines,
of my defensive cage,
the bars let through the spikes, though
made to withhold a rage

Words spoken hard slip in,
stack up like books on shelves,
built up inside the jail I
lose sight of everyone else

Pm₃₈

Waves slowly walk the empty,
unchanged bliss of the river,
the presence of the water,
fills souls nearby with calm

feelings and flowy peace,
unravels knots of thoughts.
Serene blanket falls upon,
our weary, stiffened shoulders.

Quietness of the sand,
sleepily takes away,
moments of happiness,
to gather on the shore

Pm₃₇

Here comes,
the pain,
but I
flush it straight down the drain

Go dis-
appear,
clockwise,
in southern hemisphere

Too much,
may clog,
my mind,
with tangled lumps of fog

I want,
you there,
hold me,
your words are my plunger

Pm₃₆

A quiet sound of wooden door
opening, filled the room,
I glanced back there, just to be shure,
the guest brought not my doom,

but warm feelings and happy smile,
cause it's one of these days,
when simple hug, missed for a while,
is such a saving grace

"Welcome my friend, It's been so long,
since i have seen your face,
Coffee? Tea? I'll put on a song,
here, please take up my place" -

- i fussed around, while my housemates,
all went out for a walk,
Anger, Fear, Pain and Loneliness,
we made a deal,
tonight's my turn,
I get to talk and talk...

Pm₃₅

If you were a shell,
swept on a beach,
i'd look over each,
none be as swell,

as special as you,
different from all,
one bright shiny soul,
of sands azure