There’s one thing, I’ve picked it up,
It’s the epiphany, my realization.
Like the freedom birds can hope to enjoy,
The sweet honeyed fruits of an endless nation.
The feeling, of two rivers meeting,
Two clouds becoming just as one,
An endless carousel, a freakish circus,
Being blinded by the sharps of the sun.
The feeling of fresh tar laid down,
Black and bitter to scorch your skin,
You can’t resist to test what it would feel like,
The feeling of being, the other twin.
It pleasures as it does defeat,
With every poison strand you take,
You want it to last, you want it to stop,
But whose heart will, end up in aches?
by Marc auf der Heyde, 17, John F Kennedy School, Berlin, Germany