Heritage - Poem by Jan Hauck
I have outgrown my skin like a mythical snake,
I have shed it, that skin which was too small
From the beginning, they had to invent
A new world for me, unlike their own,
And like Melies's moon
They shoot a rocket into my eye,
To see if I even exist.
I am like the Wandering Jew, restless,
Forever walking, traveling inside and out,
Like an eternal curse, fascinating to them,
And I laugh about those who feel uneasy,
Like they talk to their ghosts and demons,
Their nightmares when they talk to me.
But much unlike them, I do exist.
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