What Are You Going To Do Now?

And I Said To Myself: That's True, Hope Needs To Be Like Barbed Wire To Keep Out Despair, Hope Must Be A Mine Field.

Even If A Poet Writes About Sitting In A Glass House Drinking Tea, It Reflects Politics.

From The Place Where We Are Right, Flowers Will Not Grow In The Spring.

I Think The End Is Endless. It's Either A Big Black Hole Or A Big White Light Or Both Together. But It's Totally Meaningless, Because Even If Someone Would Explain It, I Wouldn't Understand It.

I Try To Stay A Civilian, To Live As A Human, Not As A Poet.