Who am I to understand what is going on there?
Who am I to say that the world will be peaceful if everything would have been purple, grey and slightly red?
Who am I to ask the time to stay still so that I can observe it once again?
Who am I to attach your heart to something you probably want to kill?
Who am I to tell you that your idols don’t suit your soul because you are all white?
Who am I to wear your aspirations and expectations on a dark night when I want to sleep naked?
Who am I to act like a mannequin of your shades when you can’t even control the sky?