We’re getting on this streetcar
without our permission.
Deciding every single day,
not to get out, just to survive,
until the next stop, the next breath.
Let’s pretend to be naive,
when the absurdity of norms
pushes us to follow the one-way track.
Please, look around,
see through rose-colored glasses,
how beautiful it could be!
Everything would seem easier
and more tolerable.
In this magical place,
we once called wishful thinking,
all the stars spark at night,
the rainbow shines all day!
Why must we be so practical,
when stray pieces intertwine,
forming a cohesive and unique whole?
Passing silently, unnoticed,
in the city of unseen lines,
in the depth of our hearts,
we dream that this tale
could end happily.
We, all Passengers,
craving more space
spreading our wings,
we are trapped in small cages.
In the streetcar called
Bare Existence
until the last trip,
until the last call,
we wish only
to be unconditionally accepted.
