He sits in silence of his own making...for any voice of whom he cares...he listens. Still no sound comes...the rain of emptiness rolls over the edge...of his souls windows...blurring what is seen. He knows they will flow on...they always do...unheeded...for emptiness cannot wipe them...cannot impede their flow. Silence has more substance than in he...for his is lost among the hollowed walls that hide him. He sighs, for any sound other than his own love...for loudly his love strikes the ground at his feet. But again...only silence is found. So many times the wish for someone to just ask how are you...has been but in vain...for each time his phone alerts his hopes for just a hello...it brings his despair... as want and need...have replaced care and love. He cant find the reason that he was forsaken...for his heart is only love...none would surely want to throw love away. But they have...all the love within him cannot hold him...for it is love to give...it hurts him to see that none are there...as he only wants to know someone is...only longs to be held...if just within a hug. He sees how a child will reach for a mother...and thinks that to be what he must look like inside. besides the hurt...he has nothing. Alive but dying...in a world that has so perverted love, care and devotion to the point...that he hates his heart for what it feels...thinks within himself...something is wrong with him. Feels like he is the ugly...that he hates so much in this world. Tears burn his eyes...as he tries to understand what of love is ugly...what of caring for others more than self...is strange...what of devotion to anothers happiness...makes him wrong. He can find no answers...doesnt understand why hes always left alone...when all he ever did...was try to show those for whom he cared...that they are not alone...yet hes punished for his fear...that another hurts...left to cry...when all he wished was to dry their tears. He sits in silence of his own making...left alone...for what he gives.