Of a sweetness,
You once couldn't hide
Behind those slate-grey iris walls,
Moats of small-talk
And the razor-sharp constantina wire
Of righteousness
Sister stockholm, as always,
The blue bleeds through
Despite the depth
Of those wounds
That walled-off your soul
You built them,
One insulting brick at a time
Bolstering them,
With survival-strength mortar
Mixed all alone...
Emulating those souls
You never could touch
Anger, and toughness
They served you well
Back in East Berlin,
No one could see your pain,
If they couldn't get in
Neither, could you feel
Sunshine on your face
Sister Stockholm,
Let them crumble....
Crush, fall and tumble,
Down
After all, ain't it time,
To find your way home again?
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