A sad discourteous ogre is renting my whole body
I think my body belongs to me
I'm wrong
It feeds this sadness with my bones
The calcium doesn't agree with my choices
It runs away to save its integrity
It's not the good answer

It's quite obvious, it shouldn't
But in a so confusing mess
Who am I still to have any right to judge?
Within such a constant sadness, for such a long time
How could a piece of chalk only remember where it should stay.

December 2010