Run

You want to shake them,
So young, so dumb,
Running by themselves
To the ends of the earth,

Oblivious in the darkness
Of their rooms
Of the sun’s absence,
The cost of deafness

To the would-be lovers’ calls,
Of blindness to the longing
In their own hungry eyes.
Oh life lived alone,

Was it worth it to go on this way?
Tell me now,
From wherever you are.
Tell me, just tell me.

March 2006

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