Within the crowd he walked,
At the adverse scenes he gawked.
Ben was his name, not that it mattered,
He had quite a face too, and people saw it too
And judged him therefore.
He had the opinion congruent
To the one he admired,
After discussions and contradictions
Around tables and bars,
He finally had notions formed,
Through someone else’s eyes afcourse,
Fragile they were, and are,
Ready to be shattered by any new wave of fresh air,
Which he would breathe in
And soak into before going to sleep,
Before cursing the present government,
Before talking about old times
While thinking about tomorrow.