poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009


I resent to be
Who I am
The one who doesn't

The one who can't
Without soiling his
Own name

I depend on me
To stand
On this godforsaken

Where the pens are wheat
And we eat only meat
And the clear blue sky
Is banned

I would like to lend
You a hand
But I don't have one
To spare

I would like to pretend
I understand
But frankly I just don't

You can look at me
All you like!
You can whisper, and point -
And stare

But nothing of me
Will change
Because I have nothing
To fear