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Ce poème a été écrit pour un projet de vidéo à venir.

I discovered

I discovered that

in a capitalist world,
I find great pleasure
in being "useless".
But how am I supposed
to survive anyway
if I present myself
as disposable ?

I discovered that
most people are interested
in beauty and not so much
in poetry.
"Beauty is in the eyes
of the beholder" they say,
but somehow ugliness
is more

I discovered that
the eyes of the beholder
are nothing more than
two, maybe three
empty holes
I want to spit into.

I discovered that
I've been lied to :
being understood
is overrated.

So, now that I discovered
so much already,
I'll stop feeling disposable,
I'll stop feeling ugly,
I'll stop feeling cheated,
I'll stop feeling anything other
than pure happiness...
And maybe, just maybe,
I'll start being marketable.

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