i feel the moon's cold warmth upon my head
i see the shadows faint upon the road
and all the huddled faces with their load
of pain and fear, weighted down with lead
i want to know the grief that they must shed
to break inside their lonely secret code
to hear each person's private episode
or else for me they will remain so dead
i'm scared that i will end up so like they
alone and dark, without a care or joy
to huddle, rumble, shuffle, here and there
i really wish i could be sure someday
sure that i needn't play aloof and coy
and that i will at last find one to share
poems i have written:
