Wecare the ones who are going to die – a poem

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We are the ones who are going to die
Through the eyes of the dying, life is seen differently;
As valuable as a lost bracelet.
As a hug to dive into loneliness.
as a blessing to the cursed.
As immersed in the sea of ​​abundance - we resemble them, the dead.
And they, who are going to die, wave their sad hands,
hands in spasm behind opaque, one-way glass,
See and are not seen.
They wave desperately, and their voices are not heard.
And those immersed in life do not know, do not guess,
the desperate separation now happening around them;
Up, down, front and back, on the sides and in all directions.
The dying are constantly trying to attract attention.
And we're running around on a huge binge,
pass unnoticed,
Roar the mighty roar of life.
we don't hear, we don't see,
We don't feel at all in front of us,
Yes, right in front of us,
humans walk
Human beings fade and gas.
And we don't know at all.
Deaf from the hustle and bustle of life.




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