Februar 1999 by Flying Stone
Please, may I sit down here in front of You?
Oh, so cold outside! Good to be in here.
Tell me where You go and from where You come.
Okay, I understand: You are going home.
Sad, alone, found You sitting in the train,
moving back home.
Your friend in the big town let You go away.
Well! His town, not Yours!
Models of the world You try to install and paint.
An artist from the heart, not many buy Your work.
Together with Your friend You’ve had a galery.
His pictures very nice, people like and buy.
Country back You move, sorrow oppresses You.
An old factory studio You will live and work in.
Monday You will meet Your first customers.
I wish You „Good luck!“ Go to the wood You love!
© 1999 Flying Stone