I’ll put my feelings on a shelf
and dust them every day,
’cause if I keep them to myself
they just get in the way.
I’ll cover them with tempered glass
and string a fancy rope
across the aisle to hold the mass
at bay. (Or so I hope.)
I’ll post a guard on either side
and charge a hefty sum
to enter. Then I’ll calmly hide
and watch the tourists come.
In front will hang a placard saying,
“Look, but DO NOT TOUCH.”
And anyone caught disobeying
owes me twice as much.
But what if I was left alone
and no one chose to pay
the asking price to gaze upon
emotions on display?
I guess I’ll carry them in me
while going here and there,
and pass my feelings out for free
to anyone who’d care.