Outside the gates,
I counted to seven—
and I fell down.
My memories still intact,
I looked around and felt:
”this is not my world.”
Since when did love become
illegal, wanted, indiscriminate?
My will, will not survive in here.
I see eyes full of fear,
full of tears,
as if something is missing.
Everyone is alone.
Everybody is a stranger.
And I wonder…
Does anybody feel
my heart,
my love?
And then I understood:
What is missing
is what they seek.
©Diana Mistera
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