give me sunshine

A child rushes out the womb,

screaming for sunshine.

‘They grow up so soon’

someone says

and I cry for the seventh time.

 

Baby discovers the meaning of meaningless

in search of sunshine.

Baby falls under stress, distress and becomes depressed

and “everything will be fine”

someone says

 

Now, the foetus does not exist;

it has become its own sunshine.

The process we’re born to resist,

as if it’d be a crime.

 

Give me sunshine.

Burn me out.

 

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