The Riddle of my Existence

I’m dwelling in a place
Where my body doesn’t belong to.
I’m occupying a sphere
That my feet can’t tread.
I can’t detect my prints
On the pen
Or words on the paper,
And I’m not surprised
Not to see my reflection
On the possessions of my room,
Or the walls that imprison me;
For it seems that
I’m here
Because I’m obliged to fill a sphere
That I never chose,
But still my mind is trying to chase
A clue; to figure out
The riddle of my existence.

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