I often forget the count
of the times when
taunts that pierce like arrows
have wounded me.

I do not remember if
it was once
or a gazillion times that
I have tasted the dust
mixed with the red of my blood.

I, however, smirk a little
everytime I fall to the ground.
I then get up again
and begin my fight once more.

I only hear people around me
singing along to the melody of love.
But I sing a song of courage
and the caravan of life goes on...