16.3.14 Four Years

You asked me where I see myself in four years
I don’t
I used to at a time
Holding a woman in my arms
Standing at the top of the tower
Swimming in green or fans
Even at low times I’d be dying for my country
Or limping down the street

Now the thought of existing
Rarely comes to my mind
Do you see me in four years?

Will you?

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