Alone In a Crowd

In the crowd he is lonely, empty faces pass on the street. He yearns to smell the perfume of want and the heady taste of fulfillment. In the bus he is the only passenger, He rides to the end of the line and back, looking for a heart and a home.. and recognition… see my face. The grass is wet beneath his feet… He walks from here to there and finds a way back. Looking for a light to show the way to a door that opens with his approach. The streets are full but always empty. Only the wind hears his petition. Perhaps fate was written on pages from a book written in the sand.