By : Nylazzir
January 2014
In this spectral thing
that we call earth
There is a struggle
one must take
A chance to have
that little space
One lucid hint
that we exist
Too big a place
this world may seem
But why do some
Holds no claim?
This world now crowded
here and there
Why does it feel
so cold in here?
Is this how it is
to be an outcast?
Waggling soberly
in a place so cramped
Such an irony
alone in a crowd
My pounding heart
creates no sound
That not a single person
out of the billions
Ever have noticed
ME- ALONE
in this CROWDED world.
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