Sometimes life clasps you like a claw.
Sometimes you have everything yet nothing.
Sometimes what is practical just doesn't make sense anymore especially to men with poetry in their souls.
I might be the phoenix which rose from the ashes but I can't fly again,
I might be the night that found a flame but there can't be any fire again,
I might be the lake which that has water from frozen ice again but there can't be any ripples again,
I am a man with no more poetry in my soul
This post is in remembrance of the Chinese factory worker who committed suicide because his life was not making sense to him anymore. He was a 24-year-old migrant worker in the southern Chinese city of Shenzen killed himself who jumped out of a window of a residential dormitory run by his employer, Foxconn, the huge electronics manufacturing company with a million-strong workforce that makes the majority of the world's Apple iPhones. His monotonous life got to him and this was evident in the poetry he wrote. This was probably the reason why he took this extreme step.
A bit ov his soul stirring poetry...
He wrote, "Every time I open the window or the wicker gate/I seem like a dead man/Slowly pushing open the lid of a coffin."