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.
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
No One Here