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“A chameleon can only change its colour but never change its skin.”
In my life, i have to admit, the battle that i fight between me and myself is way to harder than the one i fight against the world. Pain sharp as knives, anger that hit and burn my soul like the atomic bomb, hopelessness that reaches my heart and tear it apart.
All these worst of all makes the light at the end of tunnel more dimmer and dimmer. Victory has become a fairly tale.
Where’s the white flag? I don’t seem to know who i am anymore. like an eagle that can’t distinguish it’s own chicks from a hen’s. I’m trapped in my own prison all alone, no other inmates, no prison wardens, all alone.
I try to reach out for my old ragged flag but then I notice the key has been right on my hands since i was born. loaded guns trapped in my hand. Missiles hiding in my silence. All i have to do is reach out for the lock and open it. I never thought it would be this easy.
I see other prisons and battles ahead of me, i pick up a map that will guide me through every situation. I have to look all sides like a chameleon, change my color, not who I am. Because the road is rough.

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