Opus IV, Epigram VIII.

                    The man on the bed thinks heʼs great.
                    He feels important, the center of the world.
                    When he goes out and buys something, life
                    Seems to him to be a question of joys and dreams
5                  Fulfilled. He has a meaningful life, full of projects, a life
                    With a determined vocation. Nothing can beat him.
                    He was born to enjoy life, to feel passionately about it.
                    Now, awakening, he has forgotten all about his dream. Well,
                    Not all, but its core. There are remnants still like ashes
10                Sticked in his dry mouth. Reality intrudes and implodes.
                    The expression of his faceʼs changed. An unreal reality.
                    Staring at the ceiling, blank, white, empty ceiling,
                    The man on the bed turns around and hides his
                    Head under the pillow. Another day at that damn work.
15                How much he hates his life he cannot say. He cannot.



–––––––––––––
Piece extracted from Opus IV, forthcoming.