Chargement...

The Hat found me

This hat that fits so snug and tight.
This hat that lines my face just right.
I stole it from the man in line.
He was stuck in Tuxtla, I was fine.
I found it first, these hats are rare,
hanging empty, lonely, on the chair.
On my head, a voice spoke out.
Not one, or two, but many a shout.
To all the places, my hat, we go.
Not afraid, not restrained, the hat is show.
The voices are thoughts, the world more open.
This hat brings kindness, it makes me someone.
 
You see, before the hat, it was just me.
Accustomed to the world, I was unseen.
Before the hat, you see, I had learned to stay away.
 
I had learned it young and studied hard.
I even failed math to be so scarred.
Ready for life’s most ruthless rejections.
A life lacking a most simple acceptance.
 
This hat that fits so snug and tight.
This hat that lines my face just right.
This hat that draws intrusive gestures,
interrupting him not meant for special.
I welcome my every stunned reaction.
My child soothed from your simple action.
Maybe I’ll forget how it feels to be unseen.
Maybe this hat will make the world less mean.

Préféré par...
Autres oeuvres par Juan Michael...



Top