a plain being

I would not like to be in the company of the human who hides behind the wrinkles and the tears of this whole world.
to see how it smiles at me: 
with that perfect face,
perfect teeth,
perfect comeback for every argument,
and shake those big- strong hands,
saying, “I love what you bring into this world!”
that’s,
not a place I would feel at home.

I’d rather stay with a grandmother
who’s child just died,
hold her hand and look how in her face that faint, sincere smile appears and… tell her,
“Everything is alright!
There’s beauty in sadness,
in forgetting,
there’s beauty in closing one’s eyes.”

that’s my kind of place,
my kind of egoistic need,
to be surrounded by humans who value only things that are in the palms reach,
somewhere in the back where nothing ever happens,
behind shouts for freedom, equality, behind shouts that scream,
“Look, I am helping this world; Accept me!”

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