Poetry

When life keeps folding in on you
and half scared off you look at the whole world
where without understanding it’s hostile against you
and like a hungry fox you do keep at a distance
with a kind of unrest burning in you
as if every hand and tooth
wants to devour you
while you leave bloody tracks in the sand
and you do hear your own small cries
when you become unemployed
just before your days of old age
and aliens gather like vultures around you
and against this kind of madness
you are totally mute.