not all of us
are outside in the world
in the storm
among the beautiful walls
the delicate buildings
the people walk
so sleek
their white
teeth
shine
and the rest of us
sleep
and stare
at the bleak
silent
death
of
what it's like
to be
just one
and the stark
white
clouds
pour
over the sun
and we
can only
turn away
from
gold