Carmen

Good
You are sitting in front of the mirror
that has seen you grow.
You see
life slipping away and in your face
there is no more room for pain
you need passion
to feel desired
Now
you don't feel like
cleaning up
going shopping
ironing or cooking
And this won't change
without fighting
to get out
What are you waiting for
Break your chains
to get out
Soon,
very soon that person will arrive at your house
so familiar
and so distant, will they come in a bad mood?
will they think they're a fighter for working eight
hours? What do you think is your
role in this shit?
where will the end be?
will there be a solution to so
much dismay?