On a beautiful day
no one on the streets
all of them caught in worlds with horizons ending at the neighbors house
quiet rumors circling the tarmac roads, driven by blind fears

“What can be done to help ourselves?” asks one
“Let us shout at those who don’t listen, just to make them feel us“ says the other
no one on the street on that beautiful day
people looking at appartment walls
looking for the tiny hole there to escape

On this beautiful day
one could have seen the hair grow across the street
or the toilet being used
the food been eaten
one could have seen the child being fed and colors being used
one could have heard talking behind the wall

But all we saw
on that beautiful day
was the sandcastle crashing down, weakened by all the holes made to see outside
not knowing who it was
blaming the one who shouted
the only one who we ever discovered being different

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