Twelve past twelve, and I am walking alone
Through my present, through these streets
By now used to my rehearsed farewell speech
Silence surrounds and sounds a distant dream.
I walk as cars speed by, opposite to me
I take a lane perpendicular to what shouldn't be.
My stomach churns out the usual adjectives
But I know that I'm not truly hungry
I never was; say whatever may the history
That my steps have written; they are free.
No comments:
Post a Comment