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Poem	I pause midway in the in the whirl, Of deadlines, things undone, And average the sadness and joys - There remains only loneliness, Of which I see no cure, No bitter palliatives, no anodyne. We remain in life’s journey, Like loners sitting depressed, On solitary park benches, or, Standing in balconies, staring, Loneliness gnawing at our minds, As hungry ants at a grain of food. Often in life’s vicious lanes, In lonesome moments, It’s our failures we ponder, Not trasient joys and victories, We do not remember other's courage, Only their faults, and habits. When in each passing lonely moment, I count the millions of joyous seconds, I was alive to witness this world, and, Hurtful mimetic thoughts that passed me by, My loneliness vanishes, I scream, “I live; I am alive this lonely moment.”
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