Alone in a crowded room

Do you remember the sonnets on the wall?

Layered by pages of warmth and excellence

Do you need a reminder of the poems?

They were always about nothing

And for some reason, I found myself at ease

Reading and depicting their meaning

As if they meant something

And yet – Nothing

What did you expect?

There is no escape to the sonnets

There is only —you – the scapegoat

That wanders through meaning

And if there are no metaphors

No research, no peer-reviewed works

Will you still sit in silence in a crowded library

All without a voice