In life, is there any room left for the other?
When no more labels are left, to be placed on this box.
Something different must be applied as an indicator.
That I too...belong and live with the need to be loved.

As it tickles the unwanted pain in my heart.
Naturally, I cry out loud "Please Stop".
When hateful rhetoric shapes my light with the dark.
So is it hate that chases my blood after it's pumped?

Once spilled...
Does it run like yours or like an other?
Please, let your hateful anger be chilled.
For it is just a question to you, my brother!

Yes! I dare to ask…
For the beaten life that’s left dead in me,
wants to live again but not in this troubled past.
So besides this agony, who else feels me?

Or do I have to dig in the category for the other?
To find the answers to this outdated pain,
that has placed a dying other.
Between me and my brothers and sisters.
As we all claim somewhere, love is living within us.

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