Loitering lonely in a crowd in London
Separate, apart, different from the rest
Because of change of culture and taste
Can’t relate or fit in their world within.
In the whirlpools I gyrate in the middle
Things required to be finished before dates
For the dead and sick sending courtesy calls
Or Greetings for birthdates and weddings.
Sitting depressed or standing in my balcony
On the ground I see the last year’s leaves
The twigs are black and cold is dry & itchy
Think of failures and not of joy or victories.
In between the average sadness and joys
Only thing remains is solitude to enjoy
Of which I don’t see any remedies or cures
Not even bitter pain pills or lenitive lures.
Loneliness wearing away the idle mind
Like a grain of food a hungry ant finds
Hearing the temple-bells I feel to shout
“Hey I am alive, alive in this my lonely rout.
Our birds have flown away for a better lives
We stare at each other no sex drive but survive.
Dr. Ram Mehta
2nd place win
Contest: Faces of Loneliness by Frank H.