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