Bottles with Fear | work in progress

translator:  Caveman1

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

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

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

"every day 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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