Or, Why?

Written by: Lou Schreiberg


I sit and watch the passer-byes
        Not staring back my curious eyes
        I wear a mask of oak-like tree
        To judge that fare of humanity

Walk, they do, with robotic pace
         A grip of stride, a steady race
         What they do, where they go
         They puzzle me, but do they know

Do they persuade an oath of life
         An evasion of the surly knife
         Maybe, they see a random fool
         A wasting one, a stubborn mule

        To each his own, or why?