Stone Broke




Nothing to prove
Starving to move;
In which world am I
some humans just always
are willing to snoop.


Resources are scarce
should I imagine
to bear my expenses to Mars?


Onion, eggs, cheese
with an alone house to live in.
Where is my heart, don't tell me.
A t-shirt with full sleeves is
maybe all I need.


Solitude, nature and wind
a state where I find myself, and
a sublime peace.
I live in indecision
about my life,
because I've a queen-size list.


Is cooking my passion; or
is it just a hobby?
I feel like it's more of a therapy
because; any interference in the process,
makes me exasperate, creepy and gloomy.

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