#

every morning
every night
when the stars smile back at me
strowberies tiny bells
a few eyes blinking
colorful hands embracing all there is
freedom is not a concept anymore
and humans see they are one
teenagers stop harming themselves
suicides disappear
bad humour is just an old memory
we’re making and taking launch together
nothing to do
nowhere to be
here and now is not a poem
neither a gang of so called lost souls
beautiful flowers coming out of our hearts