In time there will be more snow
and
there will be another morning

I mourn my losses

i see my gains

considering 

another day as a better time to play

another day to count the cost of living as a lost man

in a northern country on the brink of the world

Considering my non-participation in recent wars

That could not be won by anyone

Syria

You are not in my dreams

like Bosnia

I still feel ashamed for not helping

not supporting 

turning away to another part of

the universe 

just like my ancestors did not long

ago in 1941 or 1942

but this is now

That generation are gone recently 

I am still here 

I have to answer to the future

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About

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.

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Posted in Poems

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