trane

my blou oë traan steeds
oneindige poele van blou
hart lê in vlenters.
ek mag na antwoorde
maar die vrae sterf op my lippe
hoekom is ek nooit genoeg
of hou ek net van die pyn?
sal ek ooit leer of gaan
ek die pyn ‘n laken maak
waarin ek bly?
hoekom moet dit altyd gebeur?
jy is genoeg vir my
jy is al wat ek wil he
todat ek nie meer genoeg vir jou is nie
(really long ago!)
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