No living but surviving.
Not reading or eating or crying,
but merely standing.
As a face in the crowd,
as another voice in a vast sea of humanity.
Never outstanding, do not even care
eventually merging in silent space.
The place I used to live in, the house that is no home,
those shattered infants, the stormy clouds.
Where it is earthly to rest the mind,
to retrace errors, to crawl back inside.
A shelter for crisis,
solace of the poor,
lonely echos - just four walls,
every god damn thing..
contained in a single room.
.sdne reven taht niap sselhtoos
,lairub eht ot gnihcram, wols, tnelis
,ecnelis eht hguorht skaerb taht eualp a rof egrid A
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