Who I am if I am not me.

Walking towards the old guy, 

the harder it gets.

Mountains as cages, 

I can't escape. 

Why don't you come? 

He asks "Who are you?"

I don't get his question, 

as he don't get mine. 

Reality is sad, 

yet we aren't there.

The world is crumbling,

but the birds are singing. 

Waking up, 

is the one I am. 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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