but I wonder
what you believe:
do you believe
you are
a crucial member
of society?
A pillar that
self must not erode?
Do you believe
in impropriety?
Piety?
Do you see small
fry
as a load?
Are molehills
mountains
Are wellsprings
fountains?
Are shadows
little men,
little foreign
travelling men,
that fill you up
with shouting?
Are opinions
really carat
when put on
scales with shit?
Are your hands
held open
because you
expect the prize to fit?
Are you waiting,
solemn soldier,
somewhere in the
line
far behind the
grating
quiet voice
within your mind?
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