I wish all people would wear faces
but most wear nothingness in the morning
color it with apathy and failure in the afternoon
bury all that in their pillows at night
deeper they dig every night
then pretend to be dreaming
I wish all people would wear their faces
I could, at least, remember why I do not hate them
Why I do not seek them!
Why I do not envy them!
I could, at least, remember why I feel pity for them
Why I feel pity for their sad existence
An Existence in which they fear most the mirror
An existence in which a pillow is a graveyard
