Have I left it too open, my window
For you to see the inside?
—A room, full of thoughts,
Crafted by my spiralling mind;
A bed, full of love,
Overflowing,
from an oversharing heart

Would you go inside?
Would you ran far?

Tbh I left the curtain half drawn

I ain't young
any more
time has spoken
but I don't deplore

you'll see me
at the dance-hall
in rhythm and rhyme
unfazed at all

I'll be at the village-fair
to taste the latest ware
and admire the ladies
in their best flashy wear

if invited I'll go
to the stage to sing
though not a good singer
I'll give my everything

don't you say to me:
I'm too old and a useless thing
my heart is the green meadow still
I'm as buoyant as the brightest spring!

Remember they're monsters

Not just in theory, but really

It's no longer about the evidence

(If it ever was...)

But a call to collusion

They want you silent

Unless you recite after them

So they can write papers

On pipe dreams