What should my life be?
A trade? A family? An adventure?
Lukewarm vignettes?
Dry faces in the washbin.
Timid. Tepid.
Possitively average.
I'm just a passerby.
A reflection on a busy street.
Upstream footsteps in a stairwell.
No thing to be concerned with.
If you wish real hard
I was never there.
Just close your ears
as the glass explodes.
As the earth tumbles.
Just one moment after.
I can never take back what you saw.
And I am not sorry.
you thought I'd try.
You thought I could've.
But why?