#Poem – The Problem of Meaning in Primitive Languages / 07.11.20

When someone asks you
How you are
This could be an invitation:
Not to ‘small talk’
But to honest conversation.

After all,
There’s more than enough small talk.
And so many of us
Feel like we have nobody to really talk to.

And so,
We don’t talk
Because we don’t think anyone wants to listen
We don’t want to listen
And so
Even though a little listening
Would go a long way
Such a long way
We don’t talk
We don’t fucking listen
People die inside
Then they die for good
Not for good,
But for nothing
And, if not for nothing, then for misguided reasons
And so
The suffering goes on
For want of
A kind ear
A kind heart
You could die for
Not simply expressing yourself
And maybe it could all have been avoided
If we’d have only broken the surface
Just the once.

Cover image by Anna Marie Škardová from Pixabay