I smoke cigarette after cigarette, only an individual instrument blowing steam out of the mouth and nostrils. Wrinkles crease all over my body. I am the orbit center of human despair; with artificial smiles surrounding me, with sharp tongue whips of moronic street preachers condemning my tragedy to a man-made hell. I was the juicy apple sunken by the teeth of humanity. Once, I was a five-year-old child looking up thinking this is god’s blue sky. I lost that little myth, like I lost the need to blow away the white heads of dandelions. I am the meal for the demons to suck on. Soon I will be a man no more, only an unfinished sentence, a black single comma.