You tiptoe through your life,
Because it shares boundaries
With many others,
And you don’t want to infringe,
Upon what’s not yours by right.

You certainly don’t want
To make too much noise,
Or create an aura from matchless glory –
None of those things that rouse
Sleeping neighbours,
Much to their annoyance,
And subsequently, your peril.

No you don’t do any of this –
You choose instead,
To live your life quietly.

You take off your shoes
At the threshold,
And you tiptoe
On the wooden floor,
You dim your lights,
There is never any music.

And sometimes you wonder,
Just for a moment,
If you are still alive.