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April
1989
In
Memoriam ~ A Self Portrait
he
walked and he talked and
yes
he
even sometimes laughed
a
pleasant laugh
if
dishonest
harsher
thoughts hidden
beneath
its gentle sound
if
you’d taken a closer look
into
his eyes
then
you’d
not have seen joy
hidden
behind the fog
joy
and pain do not share rooms
his
eyes
had
he not hidden them
would
have told the truth
yes
he
lived, he breathed
outwardly
he
was alive
inwardly
he
was all the time
his
own mausoleum
through
his life
death
held its grip
until
he himself
became
a pale façade
a
front of life
through which death lived