The orange

There once was an orange with yellow hair

being a leader neither smart nor fair

the other fruit in the bowl didn’t care

or maybe they simply weren’t aware

of what the orange was doing in there

until one day the orange in a flare

broke the bowl and started the great fruit guerre

at which end there was nothing left to share

only words whispered, a warning they were:

Don’t be a fool trusting the orange glare!



The day will come when your account is empty as fuck.
Only one thing to do now, let’s say for good luck:
Grab some drinks with good friends, best somewhere funny
and pay the whole thing with next months money.


If you find yourself broke early on in December
’cause your foolish past-self partied on in November,
make sure you have friends who grab you for some drinks
since playtime ain’t over ’till the fat lady sings.


I feel as if home is too far away,
as if where I need to be is not here,
as if there’s no longer a time for play
and plenty of times for fear.

I fear that I haven’t achieved enough yet,
that I am not where I ought to be,
that my way was lost, that there’s chaos instead
and now I will never be free.

I fight my own demons with all of my might,
with kindness and truth and love,
with music and joy my light shines bright
and with this I will rise above.

Above all my fears, above the regrets,
above of what might have been,
above of the troubles that darkened my steps
and made hope an impossible thing.

So I will hope despite all for all to be well,
for everything to fall into place,
for the strenght to go on, for time to tell
and for a smile on everyones face.