A little poem...

My Will

The fourteenth floor
Am I here already?
No, but I'm just in the central point
The existence is still active under me
The is stil alive over me

I see the lights from the city
As stars millions and millions of years old
Does the star depart this life? Or will a new one arrive?
I see planes leaving, up,up,up
I wonder if I will with them
Up, up, up

White sheets, while pillow, white glasses
An angel in disguise
Is a nurse a sign of life? Or a symbol of death?
Countring, looking, forgetting, but I can't
The hand is moving, will not stop
Smiling at me, pretending to be my assistant

To do a will like this, maybe seems sick
But poetry and rhymes makes me more alive
Should I be grateful to anyone? Or evaluate my life?
Should I the last hour decide who should have my chair?
And should start to make the material aspects of life count?
One teddy bear is equal to this friend
However this friend is almost worth a flag, a poster and a fork
The fork of the devil

Am I ready+ Should I even think about it?
Yes, for thinking is the best way to travel
Although I don't like my path
Furthermore I will not draw my own map the next hours
I'm ready...
If I see the sunrise, hear the birds, feel the wind and smell the sea
before I go, I would like to say goodbye to Mother Earth
Who took care of me, no matter what I did to her

Did I ever tell my best friend?
Did I ever tell my family?
The wonderful waif words which are destroyed by 2004
Eight letters, three words
Do I have to say it?
A rose still smell as beautiful with or without a name

I was born in the 80's, lived in the 90's
And gone in the 00's
I did my job. I tried. I couldn't ne
Madela, Gandhi or King
But I protested if I was unfair treated
I stood up for my rights, and more than that
I would have like to write my own biography
A biography is a book about great's persons and their deeds
My biography will be my gravestone
Mads Qvist Frederiksen
That's me.
Twenty letters, three words

The stars are fading....
MADS WAS HERE