Zywa Not nice

Nice man
Saturday lunch
we feel rich

but soon we're not laughing anymore
he's crying
over a problem, I don't know what

to do
what is it that blows and turns
in his head and the people

what may they think
of him of me
I don’t know him like this

I don’t dare to
embrace him like this
this is not funny

is there then no one
to help me?
I count to ten

Poem 122
Vaison-la-Romaine, 2008-12-28

Collection: Moons 
Keyword: Shame 
Dedicated to: C W 
Zywa
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