A hermit at heart
dodging each dart
lurking in their solitude
because they themselves don’t want to be rude.
An abundant amount of conversations
leaves the hermit disoriented and in search of their station
because their home is their shelter
yet food, water, and even shelter itself isn’t above her
that means partaking within the customs
that mostly corrupts them
their mind boggled by the words hitting their ears
the people is what she fears.
Yet the hermit
must smile or forfeit
which isn’t going to happen
so she paints her eye lids
counts her bids
and invests herself
within the uncertainty of art.
Thanks for reading
-Temperamentally Tina
Temperamentally Tina 