She looks on

more than a year ahead

from the times she had

wandering aimlessly

not knowing where she was

what she was doing in the streets

who she was

And even today

wondering

If she wants to know herself

If she cares for herself

If she has understood what her

soul has been repeating for years on end

But now she knows

that sometimes questions

don’t have answers

She looks again

confused

at what life means

why she’s here

for what she’s here

Perhaps

she will never know

and life has no purpose

Taking a deep breath

on her hidden street

she starts to walk

Asking herself

if this is what

is called progress

If this is

acceptance

or denial

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