Inward, outward, forward step.
One inch, another, and stop.
Look around;
Outward.
Everyone lives outward. They protrude
Out from themselves,
Each of them comforted by the outwardness.
It branches out, extending like
Trees over all things,
Filled with cajoling birds
Whose chatter breaks through
Closed spaces guarded by
Those facing inward.
Inside is warm and comfortable.
For insiders, it is inviting;
But from the outside,
It is cold.
Eventually outsiders stop entering.
Eventually looking Inward becomes lonely.
Sometimes they'll visit,
But not everyone stays; they get bored,
It's too cold, and frankly,
Outwardness is cramped by inwardness.
Inward, outward,
Forward, backward,
Live within, without a shameless name.