Noise At My Door

I’m not digging any deeper in the hole of society,
Nor am I walking toward its crooked smile.

My sensitivity is below its radars,
The world does not see.

What I collect from it is uselessness stickers
On the window display.

Contemplative observer,
While ostentatious actors sentence me
They don’t know the first page in the case file.

I’ve grown aware these clothes wither me
I’ve learned not to to want to wear them.

If I can dig my way, then I won’t say a word.
May actors stop sending be their nauseous regards

Now the world worries over silence
And smiles of truth,
What should I do ?

©FJ April 2021 –
Groupe de Pratique
Recueils — Participations
Merci à tous

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