PRISONER OF TIME 1 © 2007

To be me costs a lot,

A price that cannot be measured,

There is no currency

Sufficient in exchange,

For the weight the soul carries.

Each day is a battle,

An endless internal struggle,

Where the value of being authentic

Cannot be exchanged, cannot be sold,

And the cost is being whole, even if it hurts.

To be me is both a burden and a privilege,

A solitary journey, without relief,

And no matter how the world tries to assess,

There is no wealth that can pay

The price of simply existing.

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