Gedicht von Kaia Rose
Zwischen den Ruinen
der Nachhall von Kinderlachen.
Und wenn der Wind dreht
das Echo von Schüssen.
Ausgefranste Reste einer fernen Welt.
Gebaut, um zu bestehen
aber ohne Bestand.
Nur trockene Gerippe.
Zerbröckelnde Mauern.
Nichts, was das Auge hält.
Kein Ort, der Zuflucht bietet
oder die Hoffnung auf ein Zuhause.
Und doch. Kinderlachen.
Real. Neues Leben.
Irgendwo zwischen den Trümmern
unmerklich
ein Hauch von Zukunft.
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