A desperate plea for company.
One that is known well by the lonely.
The lonely stand in crowds,
Yet in their heart, they are singular.
An ironic commonality, communally shared.
The want to be with others, that they cared.
I see past their eyes, I read their thoughts.
I know how they feel, because I think, the same.
I too have given a desperate “Please.”
It only is given at night, while on my knees.
It’s a cry for purpose within others.
A cry, that I say aloud, to myself.
That is the bane of the lonely.
Always crying out, with no one to hear.