HILL
when i came to that hill
i am talking with myself,
lying on my backside,
reflections in my shelves.
I try to find conclusions.
They are not easy.
I wanna be a radical
but my reaction is,
I try to be a good friend,
but I feel dismissed,
wanna be cool,
but I loose my temper.
I am not happy with substitutes.
I miss the real thing.
And sometimes it's not amazing,
to keep the key.
I try to be honest,
but they want to see my face!
I try to be a good girl,
but my reaction is,
holding my breath on
and running on my knees.
I'd like to live for peace,
but I feel angry.
I try to be caring,
when I am feeling dangerous.
I try to be modest,
but I need admirations.
I wanna keep my daisies,
but my desire burns.