These tight doors are not getting me in
The core of their hearts.
And this frame always kisses
My forehead with a blow.
Narrow have been there streets
I’m hanged up between their mentalities.
On the peak of their expansion
Showing the least greeting.
Their giving is immaterial
Forget about a smile.
Their own weird rules
And I’m with strange distinctiveness.
No acceptance, but dumbfounded,
I'm a camel in mad men's village.
Where am I?
Am I in "The world of (mentally) dwarfs"?
