7 years ago. Me.

[kazablanka]

I'd like to find a middle ground
Where the footing's sound
Said H. Gelem as he looked around
But no one answered, as usual.

I'd like to be finally found, he said,
But instead
There was a loaf of stale bread
An unmade bed
A kettle of lead
And other weighty matters

Well, what's the matter
He asked, can i not be seen
Am i too obscene
Is my French not pardoned?

But the bed just lay
The lead just weighed
And the bread just hardened...