The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
I am a misfit;
The last piece of tile
That remains after the floor is done.
Yet they try to fit me
By breaking me into little pieces
Of myself.
No.
I won't break;
I don’t want to break.
You'll search for me
And not find me.
Because I'll hide myself.
There is no floor that can fit me.
But people try to push me in
Because they think I am beautiful,
They think I am innocent,
They think I won’t come out
If I am squeezed in
Tight enough.
I hate society,
I hate religion,
I hate community,
I hate being part of something,
I hate being put into the floor
For people to step on.
So I’ll isolate myself
On top of a mountain
No one climbs
And watch the floor from there.
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