Writers

She likes to be calm
She likes to feel the wind
She does not need unlike them
To feel, to speak
To inter fuse with the movement of another

Before ,she thought she was alone
That she was bizarre
At least now
She sees the others
The others in her position

Like statues on a corner
we stay watching.
 Observing
 Every
  lonely
 soul
move, talk,
smile, laugh,
....live

While we observe them
And take the feel of the earth
Of the silence
Into ink
Into paper
From our souls
To the critcistic hell
That is outside
In our own
unique way
of survival .