Your childhood memories of the war-zone
in which you were all alone - your mother
a monster attacking you…
She once was an angel in brown protecting
a golden-haired fairy in the bad atmosphere
of their childhood home…
Then you met Monique - beautiful, happy and
Sweet, you were enchanted, you romanced her
but as years went by you discovered
The monster was living in you
you were attacking
Monique…
The life that you built all by yourself
started falling apart, all because the
monster of hostile aggression lived on in you…
When I grew up in a war-zone, I fled the monster
by hiding from life, that withdrawal led to my
undoing too - who were right, what is true
What should children do - when growing up
in a hostile war-zone
atmosphere?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem