The body
Has always something to do
Some task or some chore
A bone that’s attached
To the skeleton
Cannot detach.
Tight. The bonds of this
Coxcomb modern life.
Dispatch! The waves
That freedom brings
And soon you realize
What freedom is.
It comes not with forgetting
The troubles and the duties
But damn I wish there were
Slightly fewer of them here.
We fools that fool ourselves
That life must look a certain way
The body
Must perform and go to certain places.
When all that truly matters
Is a human touch
With warmth and love.
To hell with all the messes.
To hell with this neurosis.
donika emille 