Triumph of loss

Every time the limitations are the same
I keep banging my head
again and again 
from time to time I stop
listen to the sound of the cars passing by outside
my window
I had my chance and now it might been gone
for a long time (maybe it was not even a chance)
I listen


I am who I was when I wrote this text but I do not know if I exist now. I am from Scandinavia where the arctic starts and the world ends. The winter is here and is so cold...

Posted in Poems

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