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Who Cares
They stand and look at things
with their eyes closed tight.
They claim to see just what others don’t,
branding someone a liar and deceiver.
Sadly, they are the ones
who deceive themselves all the time.
Who worries if someone uses a different name
whenever they sit down to write?
I personally don’t.
Who cares if they make up an age they want to be.
I personally don’t.
Who cares if they exaggerates
about what they may or may not have done.
I personally don’t care.
Everyone no matter who they are
wants to be someone different at sometime or other,
and there is nothing wrong in that.
Just so long at the end of it,
they are happy in their own way.
I have no quarrel
with what anyone does
and I don’t think
anyone else should do neither.
1 April 2008
poem
by
David Harris
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