Sitting within the four walls, 

like a flower that newly budded,

I reminisce on the thoughts of 


How unachievable it was, the 



Like heaven's fallen angel, 

this life was a similar 


Striking me down with 

each annually blown candle, 

goodbye to the thoughts


Flesh and bone


senses wiped from the mind. 

Love swept from existence. 

"These will clear your mind."

They echoed, the words, with every swallow.


1, 2, 3 a day.

Thoughts, what are those?

This mind belongs to medicine.

Marked is the skin permanently.

20 swallows in five minutes;

Swallow, Swallow, Swallow, Done. 


This poem is about: 
My country


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