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