Who’s There?

The few bushes and the single green tree,

That right there is purely me.

Scrambling to stay warm,

Though the cold and heavy trigger the alarms.

Knocking at my sanity and denying all the truth,

Destroying what’s reality completely aloof.

I have to be invisible though I’m clearly standing out,

You carry no accountability solid in believing you are not what it’s about.

Entrapping us in guilt, hopelessness and shame,

So you can shrug with confidence and say you’re not to blame.

I’m surrounded by your death that only some can see,

In the end the only one surviving will be me.

I will have no place to go, no money, no job, left to be alone,

But at least your voice of dissatisfaction I won’t have to own.