...

Sometimes the perfect creation, sometimes a mess...
stiff upper lipp when the topic is meaningless.

Double, like the taste of sweet and sour...
allways awake when the clock strikes 12, for midnight hour.

Nostalgic by nature, seeking what has already taken place...
never ever restless when nothing is offered but my own space.

Like the perfection of a cat, landing on all four...
I see beauty when the mind works although the body is sore

A touch of immortality that allways reflects in my action
And my trust in myself gives me satisfaction

I have my moments, often when sad..
when i think everything connected to me, even this, is bad..

Iceberg