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Cowardice is the bliss I feel
as my hunger and thirst
for food and water
teach me, yet again, the importance of
not being thankful.
I am given shelters but none feels homely.
As I imagine my nakedness beneath the layers
of my blanket and wool pantaloons,
I remember I'm losing that corner in my head
which used to remind me of its core - memory - and
all I could recall is how it was;
a hotbed for sleepy thoughts.
The hours move, reserving the right to not look back.
I can now speak plainly to my fellow enemies:
the spotlights in my memory have long gone.
Come on in and you may grant your wish,
that no man should think differently.
However, I do reserve the right to be a coward.