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Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Where They All Come From...


Alone, not lonely

Lonely People
Standing by a window looking out-
at lonely people.
Alone, with nothing, save tears.
Where do they go from here?
Working, fighting through untold fear.
Where do they go from here?

Should they walk away? 
Perhaps they could stay-
with the other lonely people,
who don't belong and don't know- 
where they come from or where to go. 

Whose lives flash by as in a dream,
Who are neither seen nor see,
What are they for?
The things kept behind a closed door, 
when no one is there.

No one comes near,
We don't seem to care,
We would much rather stare- 
At all the Lonely People.

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