The Girls in Glass Houses
Serenely, the water passes by.
It asks no questions,
it seeks no answers,
it wants nothing to do with the land it dissects.
On the cobbled streets above the men ogle and the women shriek at the girls in glass houses.
Like all performers they want to be loved,
and those who spectate from beyond the pains willingly oblige.
The water isn’t selective,
it doesn’t care who you are.
It displays the same gentle courtesy to all it passes.
Those on land don’t share the same respect.
They deliberate, discuss and debate what lies before them.
Then they approach,
some are courageous,
while others are timid.
There’s no escape for the girls in glass houses.
They cannot go where the waters flow.