bizarre imagination

Sometimes I feel I have nowhere to go,
No one to claim, nothing to do.

I sit alone on a bench, in the abandoned park,
Lone admirer of the alluring song, sung by the solitary lark.

With no one around, I make friends with trees,
With no one to speak, I talk to the breeze.

In the day, I wander here and there,
Searching for someone who has time to spare.

In the night, I sleep as a stone,
Dreaming of those halcyon days, when I was not... alone.


composed by aqeel (a good poet and good friend)