We drift pass each other

Spectral observers of a dead community

Nothing sinks in, our gazes glazed; empty

We know nothing, see nothing, hear nothing

We just are.

There is an emptiness, a nothingness,

The death of familiarity,

Who is who? What is what?

Solitary and isolated

Among many

A painful, but confused and lost ache.

We stroll by those on the streets

Through the hustle and bustle of our lives

And miss the truth.