Hello, Man. Poem by Driss Ezzireg

Colours of the wind
Slap faces from front
And the haunted eyes
Close the gates of wisdom.
Such is common sense-
A fruit eaten by worms
That never come to terms
With livelihood.
And the woods?
So empty, so alone, so dark
A lark drops tears and fears
For her life.
And what if the moon moans loneliness?
A case so rarely raised but buried inside
The wells of forgetfulness.
What the hell!
The smell of a rose can disclose
A wealth of ugliness.
Nothing sleeps quiet.
A shout in the ears of a dead
Can wake up memories so often
Lost in the deep frost of conscience.
Hello man, you the so hungry, the so full,
The so bright, the so dull,
Can you tell the difference in you from hell?
I loathe the company of stars that mar the breadth and depth
Of my longing for more than what they offer.
I suffer, I suffer.