A Walk
A Walk
Sick of the city, I take a long walk
Inside myself.
I meet the masses coming back
From the heart, bound
For the extremities. They don’t
Recognize me. I’m like that
King who disguised himself
In rags to go
Amongst his populace. Maybe
He asked a man in a tavern
What he thought
Of the king and smiled to learn that
He was beloved
Or despised.
It’s too far.
I’ll never get there.
To the heart, I mean.
I should head back.
It’s getting darker.