Loneliness is the feeling that you don’t matter,

The sense that those around you are better,

The fear that if you join them, they’ll scatter,

And the paranoia, that about you, they always chatter.




She, like a cloud, floated away.

Where the winds took her, I could not say.

Perhaps she ended up on the mountains,

or by the sea.

All I know, is that she isn’t here with me.

Running on empty

Replete with emptiness,

And shocked by past events.

Everything’s running on empty,

It’s just solitude with not much content.


Abnormally normal

This path, so strung with resistance,

And so filled with obstacles, leaving nothing to gain.

Like the mountain climb, requiring much persistence,

But each mountain conquered, leaves behind more pain.