We seek it on the outside

Out of tune so cluelessly
we figure the dawn has come.

As the moon departs respectfully
for the burning rays of midday sun
desires come
tear peace apart and pull us.

Pull us so the game can start.

As the coin of unawareness
slowly slips down the pinball machines slot.
The ball is flipped and we are stuck.

We realise what were once our arms with trillions
of cells of zillions of experiences and generations
that thrived lived survived
have now become two flippers.

We are strapped and pinned to the ground
burried under glas – frantic.

We feel the gap we cannot close
it‘s only a matter of time.

The ball will flip and slip through our fingers
like a relationship we couldn‘t hold
a storm we couldn‘t escape from
a test we were sure to fail
so many wars we knew we were gonna loose.

Our minds as the strongholds of hope
understand there are so many traps
and flip-backs
and pits
and cheat gaps
that we surrender … we surrender

Like flashbacks in moments of sudden death
we see and know if we only never were
to put the coin into the damn slot.

The coin of our energy is gone.

Entering the streets of hopelessness
once more we forget
how emptiness cannot be filled
from the outside and so we dig
and deep inside we find
another coin of what seems
the last resort,
again, maybe we can?
once more?

Until we ripped or bodies apart
into thousands of tiny and shiny pieces
of desirelss metals that were born
out of the fear
of loneliness.

The fear that on the inside
we are empty.

So we forget
that true wealth is in our hearts.

That true fulfillment cannot be bought
but be earned by means of love
by means of us

Sharing and giving and helping and healing
wherever we can.

So the wounds will close
as our emptiness goes.

Poem on materialism by Sascha Rossaint