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In a washed-out world, I pass unnoticed,
With a bulky backpack filled with stories;
Strangers meet me with profound eyes,
But never ask me to explain.
Their concave lips speak lightly,
Words that don’t demand a place;
No time to weigh who I am,
No lamp is lit when moonlight hides.
Under a cohesive stare, I open...
Not questioned, not confined;
Unscripted thoughts to share
With those who never ask my name.
