It’s me

The light comes quick to take it down in words the moon without a sound
records the room of people in a time of talking round.
Round and round about some other;
lives creep smaller in.

A judgement made immediately by them, by me. We make society and power through our discontent.

My judgement reflects only me, not those who I claim to see.
Which is far from what I think to be.
I’m wrong here where concerned with we.
It’s me.
I’m one who needs to see.

excerpt: March 2017