OVER-PLUS?

Why do you feel like a surplus

 here and a banished stranger?

 You can't even afford to

 pay your rent with your cheap light bulbs;

 you crawl here and there on

 the backbone of life,

 accusing yourself,

 like a false judge who is afraid of the truth,

 "How did we get here?" 

- But there are no more answers,

 I fear! Thou hast given up all thy

 chance of existence,

 without a fountain of material wealth,

 and where thou canst no longer tread

guiltless, no guarantee,

 among unmarked tombstones,

 the surviving living search for memories!

 - Thou know'st thyself well,

 Thou would'st give all thy

 minutes to be with him once more,

 And only for the last time,

 but thou canst not,

 Thy immortal salvation is 

scarred by the betrayal of kisses,

 - And see at last that in this painted

 and unhousy world Thou art left alone:

 Faithfulness to a worthless

 interest is degraded,

 - But the future can wreck and cripple,

 If life's slaps be like whips to thee,

 And break thy wavering neck!

 Take care and beware!

 Thou doest most so! 

For thy way is long since decreed,

 but without thee, And stoned like

 the helpless defenseless!

 Even thou seest thyself;

 thou turn'st round in one great circle.

 And you endure the crossfire

 of the bewildered eyes around you,

 and you stand, and your selfless,

 moral values, degraded to an 

untameable animal,

 in the ant-riot of the masses!

 - I will suddenly disappear! 

I'll be surrounded by the filth

 and filthy filth of my incognito:

 I'll be a shadow! 

Colourless and mortal

 in time I'll fade away!