Longing...

What use is the pen if writes silly
what good is the mouth if speaks loud
what need is the eyes if glance darkness
what purpose is the ears if listen nonsense
what worths a mind if thinks individual
what kind of emotion penetrates the hard skin?

I want my fairy-tails back
my wooden toys
the broken promises
to change present into future past

vocabulary at hand
to interpret the between the lines void
to reshape the words I’m fed with

crowd of lonely souls
all charged positive repeling each other
the half-full oxymoron.