22. FOGGY EXISTENCE 27.7.15

19.7.13 piet

Mist all around

No clear sound

Only a blurred muttering

Like of someone suffering

I hear yelps

But cannot help

Because I am an outlaw chained

By existence – foggy and stained –

I have no rights

Only duties defined and tight

To obey, to agree

And everybody can punish me.

I am an outlaw powerless

Nothing more and nothing  less….

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