Today,

The children of our gray world walk down

Hollow streets as though their souls have been spooned out.

Sometimes I wish I could step out of this shell, this sausage casing

And leave my books and my memories on the side of the road

To flutter away as they might.

I wonder if anyone ever sees me walking down the road

If they ever say to themselves or to the passenger to their right

“Look at that girl. What a smart classy girl.” If they might ever wonder,

“What is that girl with the poet’s heart doing on the cold road?”

But the masses, they might as well drive on by, (besides) they have nothing else to do

They ignore the weight of the concrete sky on their shoulders

They stumble back through the crimson corridors, they don’t hear the sounds of birds

Or notice how the sidewalk smells like the sea.

If someone saw me in my ash red pea coat they would not say

“Look at her. Look at that girl, so full of justified hate

With seeds of bitterness sown deep in her heart

With invisible grooves under her eyes where disillusionment

Has left its marks.”

But I wish that they would.