Why was a person born into this world?

Perhaps to give love in return,

To be loved, to feel warmth —

But the world around suddenly became a stranger to him, as if on purpose.

He reaches out with kindness to others’ hearts,

And people turn away here and there,

They try to break him, erase his features —

As if that would make it easier for them to realize their dreams.

After all, the human life is so short, like a moment, like a quiet sigh.

Like the light of a star that fades away before it can kindle a flame.

How can one learn to trust, without waiting for another blow,

When trust is played with, tested for love?

A year passes, then another — and the same circle begins again:

At first, it seems like someone you can trust, but then — fear again,

A moment of confession, then a cold glance,

And again, in your mind: “Why is this hell for me?”

People expect a person to adapt to everyone,

Under the norms, under the ideals, under someone else’s success,