Dead

I wish I were dead.

So I didn’t have to drink

My blubbering tea

Watch the wailing TV

Witness, observe and see

And count the enchanting life, dead.

It’s not about values

Not about ethics

It’s not about winning, losing

Not about polemic

It’s about people living a while ago, lying dead

In my darling paris my bubbling siblings, silenced.

Anger will rise, revenge will cry

Through the years sporadic tears will dry

With candles of condolence

And move on again and again

To this animosity it seems there’s no end

I wish I were dead instead.