View From My Window

No One Here

You have been online for a half an hour and
still haven’t spoken a word
to me, I wonder what has
gotten you so angry,
I wonder what has
drawn you into silence.
It does not matter now.  
I am used to such

silences from people, I have always been
cut off from the rest of the world.  I don’t
know why.  People expect me to be like
the Dalai Llama, and wear a robe and
meditate under a full yellow moon.  I’d do that

if I could, it is a tempting proposition-
but the color of the robe clash with
my black boots.



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No One Here

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