Bottles with Fear | work in progress

Übersetzer:  Caveman1

translated poem: butelki z niepokojem (~Lidia) - Moderator: Michał Zabłocki
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in the old bednight tables
in the room without handles
there are many pill labels
closed with zips against vandals

so what is the solution?
how can these pills be reached?
hands shaking revolution
drop the key - so impeached

if only I could often
day by day take all the pills
all my headaches would soften
I'd have no more chills or thrills!

"daily we want to consume
these tablets though they are dregs"
so sing patients in this room
who are pulled by their legs

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