On the Island of Lonely that floats on an ocean of my tears you can hear the whispers of the dead

You can hear silence interrupted by your own dismal thoughts

You can see the bones stacked like surplus that form the foundation for the island, that float like a raft and whistle with the ocean when the tide flows in

On the Island of Lonely
Love is a myth, all the residents drink morning tea that taste like blues, in solitude

On the island of Lonely
Old women sing and play vinyl records, their voice hoarse and raspy
Their memories of smiles haggard,wornout

On the Island of Lonely a drummer boy who hits turned over trash cans with pick up sticks greats newcomers with a passionless kiss and the most morbid giggle followed by, "enjoy your stay"

On the Island of Lonely an orphan girl sits at the shore of pictures where she is surrounded by the sand of captured memories and she wails, she wails cause she wants more than she's ever known, she makes noise until she can't anymore

On the Island of Lonely the sound of laughter is foreign and every soul is out of love with reality

On the Island of Lonely old men come to await death and forsake the joyous mood of youth in the world around them
They understand that opportunity has slipped from the slick grip of their fingers and the world has put them away for safe keeping

On the Island of lonely Old men come to await death with receding hairlines and cataract eyes and when death comes they rejoice, they clap their hands and almost smile cause their waiting is over.