Sleep.
They’re treated with aggression,
When all they want is love.
Study.
To better your profession
So they fall in love.
Eat.
It’s better than even the Resurrection.
Dream.
To point your pen downward, held up by the
Iris of the eye.
Clasp your hands.
You’re ready, even if there is not an event outside.
Lower.
There is no such thing than a demeanor.
Trust.
But what? A thousand things.
You can say you did this all in isolation,
As we all are.
Hungry.
Empathy is Poetry 