Photo by Gwendal Cottin on Unsplash
Sometimes I feel
my name is stolen
by someone who calls it
on street.
No one would figure
that I’m different
when it disappears.
If it would shout and scream
underneath, or under the water…
I still won’t hear.
Oh, and it wouldn’t.
My dream attempts to lead
to the remembrance
but mostly it gets lost.
Sometimes I feel
my name is given
by someone who calls it
on street.
No one would figure
that I’m the same
when it appears.
About the Creator
Nilla Chen
I don't write great things. I create my own things.
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