Why this broken pen
dance better between the lines,
when it is sad,
when it is crazy,
when it wanders into the challenge?

Why this sentence?
Why this nonsense?

Why this lost heart fights with more vigor,
when it is absent,
when it’s empty,
when its ship sinks?

Why this vehemence?
Why this damn noise?

Why the “brave”
always hide from the shiver?

Blessed dullness,
Blessed shrewdness.