I feel the need to get away.
The need to scream.
The need to stop... and think.
Just think... nothing else.
I run, jump, scream, and get away...
Then hide.
Hide from the thinking.
It's dangerous to think.
To be me...
To be the thinker...
And not the follower.
It's dangerous, to be me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem