Up against incredible odds,
why break myself? I thought.
I'll lie low and weather the storm.
When the time comes,
I'll make my break.
I'll be slippery, sly and go undetected.
Make them think I'm playing the game.
It might even look like I'm enjoying it.
I'm already gone.
I'm far from here.
They don't even know.
It's not fair- this specific life- it's not right.
Self preservation.
There's more to be had.
She says she wants to stay.
I say she's crazy and lacks imagination.
She says if it ain't broke, why fix it?
I say it's broke baby, it's broke.
Broke and maybe not beyond repair,
but not a job for me.
My work is elsewhere.
I'll be leaving soon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem