I feel like I'm dying and no longer existent
I stare at the same faces
And I can't wait until they are distant.

I wish to fly away, to be set free
Whatever that meant
Good God, help me.

Bu you do not exist, so my idols
Are earthlings
I bow to musicians, poets and writers
And a few material things.

But my real problem lies somewhere else.

by Hana Kovacevic

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