Caught in the crossfire 

 
 
Among many individuals I still remember this, alas, The scrawny Red, who, with the skill of an assassin, threatened and harassed me daily, and clung to men like disgusting little leeches, and against his raging, vengeful fists there was no help or escape. 
 
In the middle of the nineties, I had not yet grown out of childhood, and I was already scurrying and fleeing in the hope of possible tomorrows that might bring peace and mercy! - And not letting go of the ring of revenge and revenge, they beat me like a swollen, fat punching bag, - you little worm, you bastard -, they even caught me and stuck my head in the stomach of toilet canals: "Let him taste it. 
"Let the fugitive taste the new flavours!" - Nothing else happened! Broken and destroyed was the cherished childhood I had tried so hard to preserve and protect! 
 
Only fallen, only fallen, the sieve-snowstorm of everyday life, and the apocalypse of gorilla-fist. The schoolyard where the trenches of hatred and the rifts of aggression were dug as they cried at will (and threatened with the cheap smell of their urine), and the the winds too, like a raging hurricane almost raging, and they came and they went the humiliated years, and came the Winter with its swan-white hyena claws. 
Threw their icy greetings, 
 
- In my teddy-bear back, a target to be tied, a target to be spat out From broken tooth-clusters the frostbitten twilight: No mercy was possible, I had to survive I had to survive human evils!