It Gets Lonely

im lly

Living within the dictates of this world’s definition of existence.

Dying with each attempt to match society’s image of the relevant.

Loneliness is, whether in the crowd of 3, or a 100 times that maybe,

But most disturbing: strangers in this society are our daily surrounding.

A society that keeps claiming it understands we,

Denying the revelation that it is no less lost than we’ve proven to be

In struggles to delay the loss of chunks of a brainwashed following.


Surely that cannot be permissible.

What’s the point of misleading if they can’t get all of you?

So the times we thought the surrendering of a few parts would do,

Were the times we redefined what it means to be played for a fool.

With each offered chip, boulders were built until we’d been blocked –

– In and left frantically trying to understand why we got conned.

All we sought was one who wouldn’t view us as pawns.

Who wouldn’t play on our intelligence, calling it fun.

For one hardly enjoys the game until it has been won.


Well, to be honest, I’m the party that’s worn.

Wearied, battered, heart in tatters and mind undone.

I’d claim I suffer alone, but there wasn’t a more unlikely assumption;

As an admission by misfits stuck amidst these zombies

Would bare countless kindred spirits – just as lost and lonely.

Our loneliness, advanced from the class of sensing and now a knowing,

Knowledge turned conviction so convincing – other realities pale in comparison.


Oh, what we would give to trust.

To trust without the minutest feeling that something was being forced.

But how can anyone be interested in being worthy of our trusting

When time’s majority is devoted to lewdness, lusting and plays to the gallery?

If there were a chance we had a chance then we’d take it

But all the emptiness is as a giant pushing sanity down the hole of the rabbit.

We couldn’t get out even if we wanted to.

We wouldn’t want to get out if that to be found is all we’ve been through.

It transcends frightful, to hope there could be better;

Being home to so many doubts has made hope too unfamiliar.


It would be nice to just breathe for a change.

Not envy, and plot, and channel creativity centered in rage

– Only to release an avalanche of unrelenting damage.

It would be nice to just breathe.

Not flare ones nostrils to inhale deeper

Just so one lengthy lie could last for a bit longer;

Not making manipulation the agenda

And spewing deceit laced propaganda,

Not aiming to be attention’s center or some renowned hustler

Until the moment sight loses all that should have mattered,

Not making narcissism the mantra

And steadily denying that other lives matter…

Yes indeed. It would be nice to just breathe.


I won’t stop trying though it gets harder by the day

As this place gets so dark the silver lining moves farther away.

It gets lonely when nobody wants to consider there could be more,

With everyone scrutinizing lies, the truth can’t even get past the door.

Do we have to be evolved self-serving specs floating through time?

If the claim is there’s neither truth nor absolutes, can we not be lying?


It gets lonely when they are all too scared to join this conversation.

It gets lonely when they only want to scream and never listen.

It gets lonely when the wandering heart forgets if it can return.

It gets lonely when perpetual confusion becomes the norm.

It gets lonely when the knowledge desired is yet unknown.

It gets lonely not knowing why you stand-alone.


It is lonely…


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