I’m Tired, But Just

I’m tired of living in square dwellings
Full of shadows
When they should be round
And full of light

I’m tired
Of not having a garden
And of being told what to grow in it
When I do

I’m tired of looking at this
Abysmally unattractive clothing
You all insist on wearing
Where are the sparkling robes
The furs, the leather

I’m tired of wearing clothing
In midsummer at all
Who invented that

I’m tired of being made to
Show my papers
Everywhere I go

I’m tired of the fear
In the eyes of my fellow man
Every time I let out a laugh in public

I’m tired of the fear
In the eyes of my fellow man
Every time I voice
An honest opinion

I’m tired of the fear
In the eyes
Of my
Fellowman

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