Written by Irma Kurti
Here I am,
not at peace,
a ball of sadness
and also of tears.
A new
disappointment …
I thought
I’d changed,
I’d become rational,
abandoning
the candor
and my escape
to an ideal world,
without people
without pains.
Here I am,
at the beginning
of the road,
tired of all,
especially
of myself.
A suitcase
as old as me
in my hand,
accompanies me
in these cases.
A difficult road
is waiting ahead
in search
of my soul mate.
How many
kilometers are left,
how many
disillusionments
I’ll meet,
I wonder if
he does really exist.
Once again,
at the beginning
of the road …
Text © Irma Kurti
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