Astronaut Syndrom

January 31, 2014 § 1 Comment

They sold my home for a pink cloud
An illusion too thin to ever be found
I hope someday to see mama proud
Die as she laughs fantastically loud

Just like the earth smiles through sunshines
I wheep through antic hopeless signs
I promised my man forever to be fine
But my ground grows too far to stay mine

Four walls and a scarred ceiling
Three steps and a dull feeling
Where shall we now be real in?
Can’t you see my skin peeling?

A million stardust from my feet’s shadow
I bet nothing exists this deeply hallow
Why is it Satan be so easy to follow?
Why is it Valium be this evident to swallow?


Ghizlane Radi


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