~A place to belong~
People are they.
And they keep walking in a circular path,
A cycle of their everyday life.
While there I stood, frozen.
Stuck in the corner of the circle,
but circles don't have corners
So the 'there' where I stood..
non-existent, it may be
Where am I then?
When did I stopped walking in
that circle?
When did I stopped living?
Circles don't have edges, but it have sides
The outside and the inside.
It seems that I am outside of the circle they are in
And inside of my own circle, where only I exist
People are they.
And they don't take the same path I do.
***
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
Poetry"death is not the greatest loss in life, the greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live"
