Leave them

Distant is the star I used to wish upon

and further distant is the feel

of wishes coming true

in a world of silent lovers

amidst the din of noisy haters.

It’s not really that they hate;

they’re simply empty, cold,

and feelings neither good nor bad

can live in dark dank places.

And I can’t touch them, no, I can’t,

for the chill that creeps within

and tries to take control

of my essential grace.

So I leave them there as you should do

to grovel in their own petard

and wonder every day and night

why all their noisy frenzies

hurt them instead of me!