I look at all the lonely people,
standing in a line,
a row.
Like a line up of suspects
waiting to be identified.
Sometimes,
though more often than not,
when I browse that line up
I see myself standing there.
See myself gazing.
Glazed eyes,
empty stares
back at me.
"Ma'am," he asks,
"do any of these look familiar to you?"
"No." I reply.
For I don't think I could ever,
truly admit that I am lonely.

10/06/2011

Posted on 10/06/2011
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