bridget gourlay Poems

The human race is forever switching off and re-tuning our selves to fit in
We are offended if we are called weird, yet angered at the thought of being boring
Who are we? We are often caught asking ourselves these universal and existential questions.
Yet our conclusions are subjective.
...

You don't know me, nor I know you
If only our silent glances and smiles
Would be traded for five minutes of talking to each other
We would suffocate under time pressure from talking too much.
...