Behind these
glazed windows,
I contemplate.

I sense your
ignorance,
your idiocy.

You assume
you know everything
about me,
through my interior
and out my exterior.

You claim
I don't understand,
yet you disregard my
feelings
like a millionaire
brushes away
a penny he
glimpsed on the ground.

How can you
leap to conclusions,
feign you know
the answers
to questions
no one will ask?

After my
fourth wall
disintegrates,
will you refrain
from declaring
your hypothesis?

Your theory
lacks support.