have you ever felt
that your life is mortgaged
from the very first cry?
they squeeze your persona dry
they gain interest from everything
starting with your imperfect reflection
and its teenaged acne
ending with a type of upholstery
on your second-rate coffin
and nothing really belongs to you
except a nightingale’s song
that reverberates outside your window
every single night
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
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