Wooden People
In the far away island on desolate seashore
You build your desire castle of dream sands
You protect the fragile niche
From the breaking waves rolling to reach you
They can’t churn the sandy abode
Made by insular lonely people.
Your windows are closed to the sunny sky
Shrouded by the dense darkness
You turn into a slice of moonless night
In your periphery I pass you by
I can’t see through you
The true colors of opaque people.
You fly in the frozen sky
On the forlorn wings of winter
In your heart of Arctic sea
Sentiments freeze, don’t swim
I can’t hold your limp hands
For support for you’re cold people.
In your life that you make a desert
The oasis disappears under the dunes
Blazed by your flaming mind
Emotions burn, don’t flow
I can’t find a stream in your heart
To float my feelings for you’re dry people.
I’m wandering in the museum of our times
Where you’ve all turned into wooden people.
June 5, 2018
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