A
Multitude
Dwells
Inside
My
Head.
Some
Are
Living,
And
Some
Are
Dead.
They
Occupy
Houses
I left,
Cities
Joyous
And
Bereft.
I know
Them,
And
They
Know
Me,
And
Generally,
We
Let
Each
Other
Be,
But
Some
Lonely
Nights
They
Multiply
In
Flights
Past
My
Chair
And
I observe
Them
Everywhere,
Resist
And
Accept,
Praise
And
Condemn,
Then
With
A
Kiss,
Put
Them
All
Away
Again.