You gave me socialism...
And a boundless love for ice cream.
You gave me subscriptions to
Children's book club,
The worker,
Disney's book club,
Arena,
Warehouse Aftonbladet culture,
Finn & Kitty,
A book for all-and ambush månadsböcker
Because you understood my desire to read.
You gave me solidarity.
You gave me the opportunity to see the beauty
In the dangerous and threatening
When you drove us down to the sea
So we could see the ovädersblixtarna on hold.
You gave me a loving look at
The wounded and the abandoned.
TO DAD
You gave me a room.
Where I didn't have to choose
Between being a boy or a girl.
You gave me wernströms
Serfs-books when I just
Wanted to read about ghosts and monsters.
You gave me the existentialism.
You gave me a sensitivity
As some days are a burden,
Other the finest I have.
You gave me feedback on what I wrote
And often said I should read
He that fuacku you had read when you were young.
You gave me a bad conscience when I said that
Fuacku's name is foucault.
You gave me the music.
You gave me everything I wanted.
But not all I needed,
For like many of
The injured and the abandoned
Missing the language required.
You gave me everything I wanted.
But not the language we needed,
To talk about you.
You gave me everything I wanted.
But not all I needed,
And the moments I was mad at you,
Was I afraid I wouldn't grieve?
The day you weren't here anymore.
Today is the day.
The tears are for you.
Fulgråten is for you.
In every word I've ever written
Are you and my despair
Over a society that is said to be rich
But can't satisfy a child
Basic needs.
The words are for you, dad.
I hope you're in peace now.
I love you.
Children's book club,
The worker,
Disney's book club,
Arena,
Warehouse Aftonbladet culture,
Finn & Kitty,
A book for all-and ambush månadsböcker
Because you understood my desire to read.
You gave me solidarity.
You gave me the opportunity to see the beauty
In the dangerous and threatening
When you drove us down to the sea
So we could see the ovädersblixtarna on hold.
You gave me a loving look at
The wounded and the abandoned.
TO DAD
You gave me a room.
Where I didn't have to choose
Between being a boy or a girl.
You gave me wernströms
Serfs-books when I just
Wanted to read about ghosts and monsters.
You gave me the existentialism.
You gave me a sensitivity
As some days are a burden,
Other the finest I have.
You gave me feedback on what I wrote
And often said I should read
He that fuacku you had read when you were young.
You gave me a bad conscience when I said that
Fuacku's name is foucault.
You gave me the music.
You gave me everything I wanted.
But not all I needed,
For like many of
The injured and the abandoned
Missing the language required.
You gave me everything I wanted.
But not the language we needed,
To talk about you.
You gave me everything I wanted.
But not all I needed,
And the moments I was mad at you,
Was I afraid I wouldn't grieve?
The day you weren't here anymore.
Today is the day.
The tears are for you.
Fulgråten is for you.
In every word I've ever written
Are you and my despair
Over a society that is said to be rich
But can't satisfy a child
Basic needs.
The words are for you, dad.
I hope you're in peace now.
I love you.
No comments:
Post a Comment