The great paradox of the writer’s life is how much time he spends alone trying to connect with other people. ~ Betsy Lerner

Alone in a Crowd

Saturday, April 21st, 2007

(A poem I wrote during my teens.)

One of many, yet alone
Supposed individual, but a clone
A product of society
Shunned as an outcast
And treated without
Any sympathy
For unknowingly deviating from the norm
I’m alone in a crowd
Wishing I’d never
Been born

They don’t understand me
I confuse them
For I try fervently to emulate them
But never succeed
Maybe I’m searching for love
In the last place I’d find it
Perhaps if I love myself
Others would too
Then I’d be alone in a crowd
And proud

© 1998 PJM.

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