i see people waiting at the lights to cross the road
i cross it anyway
is it that they are patient, and i am not?
is it that they are obedient and i am not?
is it that they are afraid, and i am not?
if ever an allegory, for their drudgery,
whatever they are, without self flattery,
i am definitely not.
it’s extremely hard for me to be switched off,
foresight, intuition, unrestrained,
caught in the crossfire of thoughts,
they’re not voices i hear,
they’re your conversations,
they’re your innermost secrets that no soul knows,
and I see you and hear you all,
inceptions upon inceptions,
you parade with masquerades,
who? who will come to your aid
when your buttons won’t press any more,
when your street lights dim,
when the pedestrian symphony halts,
and you have to decide for yourself
will I cross this street?