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My Own Existence

I sit back and watch as all of the people scurry on their merry little way.
On the outside I appear to join them.
Maybe I’ll jump in and play.

But, I watch the people as they walk by.
They walk so fast because they all have somewhere to be
and not a single one of them is me.

If I didn't say a word,
not a word would be spoken to me.
They look at me.
What am I?
They can’t even see.

Just a name, that’s all I am.
That’s all I’ll ever really be.
Just a person living here-
that’s all there is to me.

What’s the point in having other people
if other people don’t have you?
What’s the point in doing things
when there’s never anything to do?

I've tried to make myself known,
but why?
Is my life even real?
It usually feels like some big lie…

Let’s be honest, I've already faded away.
So they pretend to see me,
they pretend for one more day.

I know what they’re thinking,
they wish I would just leave them alone.
But I can’t believe that.
I have to think that I have some friends of my own?

I’m a silent observer
or I could be, if I tried.
I know it’s who I really am.
It’s only to myself that I've always lied.

Empty words pour out of the mouth that has been called mine.
Do they hear them?
Can they see me?
No. To my presence they are blind.

It doesn't matter, no!
I’ll be okay!
Just catch me tomorrow,
tomorrow will be a better day!

But tomorrow always proves just to be the same.
It’s the same old story, it will never change.

Hollowed eyes stare blankly through my void “existence,”
as it has been called.
They see me, and they run away,
quickly,
because they need to get their distance.

I’m always talking to familiar faces
that don’t even know my name.
I’m dancing with my loved ones
that think love is but a game.

But, really, if I’m honest
the problem is all in me.
Could I learn to do it?
Could I be like them?
Could I cut the cords that easy?
Could I break from my stem?

But I could never.
I can’t break before I bend.
Why are they so stoic?
Why is there no emotion in their eyes?
Automated robots, just moving along.
But I am just a shadow- can a shadow sing a song?

I sit now at my window
and watch the planes fly by.
And I wish that I could be one of them.
I wish that I could fly.

If I could, I would go somewhere far away
Into a space where time did not exist.
I would be alone, I could frolic and play.

There, now I have said it.
My deepest heart’s desire.
I need to not need people,
I need to not admire.

Right here? Right now?
No. I could never wish to be alone.
People are my passion.
People are my home.

But what if I was not so concerned
about what they said or thought of me?
What if I just...
let go?
Could I finally be free?

Maybe one day I will see.
Maybe I’ll have the same vantage point as birds or planes
flying far above the trees.
But until then I will keep talking to them,
talking to all of these people as they walk by.
They keep walking by.
Seven billion people, constantly roaming the Earth
because they all have somewhere to be.

and not a single one of them is me.




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