People don't see me
they do not touch me, but
their dodging bawls at me:
Do you think we are pathetic?

Without expensive clothes
handmade shoes
arms full of beautiful friends
and the favours of a VIP?

Without keys to a villa
the brilliance of grand plans
and favours to hand out
Don't you call that life?

Shivering, I smile
at the boy in the Annex
who serves tea and looks back to see
if I happen to take notice of him

He reminds me
of something and somewhere
of my emptiness
and you