Mum

 

To exist or not
is one more tale

Told by an idiot

Whose feet stumbles

Through this neck

Of the woods

Waiting for a tree

To fall so as to know

for sure,

Keeping mum these days

So as to let life foster

Too much chatter

Chases the wild life away

Even my footfall

Over old leaves

Sounds as if I am

Breaking bones

I step with more care now

Hating to leave my mark

On such a sensitive place

Keeping silent

So as to become invisible

Coming and going

Unnoticed

Just one more lost spirit
in a world of insane people
projecting their insanity
on me.