It's that feeling again,
when you're amongst a crowd.
Surrounded by people,
yet under a loneliness cloud.
Your significance equates,
to the tiles on the floor.
They keep on talking,
but you, they ignore.
You try to engage,
Really, you do.
But they keep on talking,
dismissing the presence of you.
You could vandalise their clothes,
or throw pie at their face.
But they still wouldn't notice,
that you're here in this space.
Often it is hard,
it makes you feel so blue.
That people don't take the time,
to appreciate you.
YOU ARE READING
contemplations
Poesiajust a book of random poetry a life contemplations. there is no set story, i just write then publish whatever poems come to mind. enjoy :)
