I hate the childish platitudes
And like a child myself
Hate being bored by people who I find
Too slow – too quick – too much trouble
For me to carelessly caress.
I hate the day’s todayness
And – like a child can not
Decide, whether it is next year or last year
That would better fill the gap of present discontent.
And so, within the maelstrom of my mind
I think today – “I will pretend
To be like others. And to play their game
But not after today!
This mockery must end.