A body made of shrubs
Like the king on the cross I spread my arms
He did it to embrace but
I do to scare away
With no heart nor mind
With no arm just a hand
I came with just my feet
The fields are the floor of my house
The sky my ceiling and the moon my chandelier
People pass by, not a word they say,
People I thought were my peers
I don’t need their pity
I just can’t feel it
I don’t need their greetings
I can’t respond anyways.
I watch them turn the earth
I watch them as they hope for bread.
I wonder, what if it never rains.
What if the sun takes a nap for years?
If their prayers are answered so can mine
They come with both feet
But fall so easily
They come with brains but
How quickly do they lose their memory?
I wonder why? But I have none so I can’t tell.
Is it right not to have a heart?
Is it better without a mind?
Is it life? Would you care to answer?
I watch as they are placed six feet beneath me,
As others shed a tear or two.
But what can I do?
Am just a man in the fields?
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