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
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.