INSIDE

And what of the people who live their whole lives inside?

Who empty their hearts of others and sit cold,

inside.

Seeing calamity seize their neighbors, they lock their doors,

Should the tragedy dare corrupt their beloved

inside.

At the market, they settle their hands on a ripe apple

Biting down swiftly, only to claim its rotten

inside.

Despite their grand opulence, they live only as hollows

Searching for absolution anywhere—be it

inside.

And indeed, when I left my own gilded house

I turned back, realizing I too had left myself,

inside.