POETRY 1 min

STAGE FOR THE BEGGAR

HEBERT POLL GUTIÉRREZ

#Calgary Writer

I can't make you understand, neither you nor anyone else,

what goes on inside me.

-Franz Kafka.

I walk in the city of my ancestors.

A cry greets me when I go out

and I can't get beyond it.

There is no stage for the poor

outside its streets.

I return.

I sit in the park to look at the windows

of the cars turning away my figure.

I walk in a lost city,

a city without a name

where everything is for everyone

And nothing

belongs to anyone.

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