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Writer's pictureAlexandra Sotiropoulou

The play

Updated: Jul 14



A temporary existence,

yet it means the world to me.


I see, I smell, I breathe

in a world that gave birth to me.


Each ray of light, each smile

and each cry shows me.


The reason that I came alive

is not for pleasure, not for pain,

not for others, not even for you.


I take part in a play,

just for the sake of it.


Although you bet I am lucky

if I have food on my plate.


Why should I lose something

and then appreciate?


Can I live, can I die,

and can I celebrate?



Alexandra Sotiropoulou




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