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Modern Love


We would die 
with smokes suffocating our lungs
plastics choking our throats
Or guns pointed to our heads
grenades thrown to our windows 
bombs aimed to our city

 We would die easier
With our own cyanides we swallow;
Our ideas
Our feelings
Our expectations
Our mistaken love

We would die easier
The animal living in this modern world we build
Trying to crawl on top of the chain
Yet we are the prey to ourselves
In this noisy world with wars within our head

Picture by Made Dian

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