My head aches. What should I do?
Maybe I should just forget
and loose my self to pity,
or should I try to escape
from this melancholic state,
to fly across the sky
with no wings – just freedom.
Is it possibile that I still exist,
with all the things that happened?
Am I here for real now,
or is this just a misty dream,
spilled over my pillow of reality?
Living – what that means at all?
Who can point at you and say:
-You are not alive!- Who?
Let the first stone fall...
And when you think of me
you should know I didn't care,
- I just lived and tried
to enjoy it as I could!
Goodbye!
Autor: Nikola Bulj
