In the morning dark, so silent,
Many people walking up and down,
As if the world will end today.
Water rushing everywhere, black are her eyes,
Red is her touch, her body like glass otherwise,
And on the soft skin, cold frozen ice.
Like dust in the morning dawn,
Her wings just want to fly,
Behind this huge curtain, no smile, no cry.
The end of the path can’t be seen,
The ground is cold and dry,
And when I open the door, I can see the beautiful July.
Written in: May 2013. Adopted from: Schmitz, Timo. For better and for worse – A collection of poems. Berlin, 2013. All rights reserved.
Timo Schmitz 