Emotional Buffet 8
What a disgrace, this prison of rules.
Blood is red yet never only red.
I remember a sad face from the past.
Did something happen? No… nothing happened.
They were assembled in a single line;
the world does not hold this many saints.
Your grace lies in your words, darling.
Gestures are not your only forte.
I am lost in such an evening.
Someone roams alone— am I that someone?
They stand still, like walls.
It was wrong to speak, yet nothing was said at all.
That single sound began an emotional marathon.
Is it them you see—or all of them contained within you?
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