how pain was my poetry,
suddenly poetry was my rescure.
Sometimes i fumbled for words,
Sometimes words overwelmed me.
It revealed the darkness of my soul,
But also lit a fire in me.
I spent my tears like coins.
Spendtrift as a libra could be.
Now i lie in my room and think,
Of the riches i lost,
While i collect my coins in a box.
You taught me saving.
You taught me love.