My mind walks through rooms Through rooms filled with mirrors and telescopes That sees through the moon, finding life to wave back Feeling why to keep looking Or if I still have money To keep making poems I live by the dream of finally shining To beg for less future attacks How much checks must there be For one to pick up the phone Not wanting applause Just wishing to feel the same like you humans Not by meter or lumens per sameness and time But patience, understanding and having somebody near Will one finally come to sit for a while If I say something youngsters can hear Or only poets notice as rhyme