Eight billion souls, but I dine alone,
My plate grows cold, I'm on my own.
Eight billion souls, but I sleep alone,
My story untold, 'cause I'm on my own.
Through the glass, I watch them roam,
Roam the streets,
Faces passing, but I'm well unknown.
Alone in crowds, amongst life's flowers.
Fragile, naked, drained of all powers.
No one to share the burdens I hold,
No one to warm me when I'm freezing cold.
No one to embrace when the night is long,
No one to serenade with a heartfelt song.
No one to anchor in the storms that rise,
No one to see the dreams in my eyes.
Eight billion souls, but I'm all alone,
Heart turning,
Into a stone.
YOU ARE READING
Eight Billion (and more poetry)
PoetryHis hands cradle his face. Yearning to be alive, Yearning to be alive, "Wrap me close, won't you?" ♧ A collection of my original poems.
