… Must I walk with aimless feet,
Remain unknown to all I meet…?
Is there no place in this land,
When I can touch another hand…?
… Thoughts and dreams, ideas all sublime
Tip- toe, yet my unresistant mind!
Like nuns with little candles,
Learning blue and aching tracts of brain- sparks.
With their rough, unfinished sandals…
… I am all the poets and musicians,
To whom no one ever stops and listens…
Am a multitude of balladeers,
Singing songs that no one hears…
I am an artist’s subtle charcoal live-
Destroyed by an unperceptive time…
… But still I walk with aimless feet,
Remain unknown to all I meet;
For there is no place within this land,
Where I can touch another hand!! …