Life is full of people, who
Are walking around all full, and
I wonder sometimes If I am, the
Only one that’s empty
And I feel guilty when I sleep
Because I took those people,
For myself and I used them as much,
As I could to feel full, when I was
Hollow
I blew into them like a reed,
Flute with a yellow polish, and
The sound was like a wind that rushed
Through my canyon of a soul, vibrant
But just as empty as before
Maybe I’m meant, to return
To the ground I came from, and cast
My still hands like roots, so that my corpse
May become a home