On the Outside
December 18, 2010
You never look
at me.
I often look
at you.
You have
those things
I am told
bring happiness.
I have
those things
I am told
bring shame.
I look into
your restaurant –
you spend
my week’s wages
in a night
so elegant
so white
table cloths
and candles
fine wine
and waiters.
I could go on
and on,
but I have been ordered
to move along…
2008
qazse 