This is what happens when you have free period Mother Tongue.

People speak and all that you hear
are rambles and murmurs
all but clear
They dance and wave
but what do you see?
If not visions of unreality
You run 'round in circles
but could no more feel
the lump in your heart
nor the soul on your heel
When will you stop
and settle for amends
and watch your reflection
and all thy pretends?