The dream is fading,
and nothing I do
keeps it alive.
The sky turns pale,
the air tastes strange—
reminding me
I’m not from here.
The hum of machines,
the glow of screens—
none of it
gives me joy.
It only helps me forget
where I belong.
Social platforms rise,
yet add no value.
We build jungles
of selfies,
but not of trees.
We share our happiness
with everyone—
yet no one is involved.
I come from a jungle,
where animals speak
and trees breathe.
But in this virtual world
of followers and subscribers,
jungles are dying.
In the end,
I’m left alone—
with my happiness
and my poems.
RSD
hotcrassa 