Untitled.

I sometimes wonder

where the anonymous go

when they’re alone. 

Do they go for walks in the crowds,

merge with the masses of strangers 

in the mall, at the station?

Strangers always seem to flock together,

it’s as if they had never heard of

stranger danger.

Instead, I just walk under the skies.

And I just hope the heavens,

will remind me of our wings. 

But the clouds above my head

convulse in the empty sky

like hunger pains. 

Author's Note

let me know what you think :) I'm alway eager to learn

Reviews

[TLK]

This poem starts with a very interesting focus on the habits of strangers. I feel that the last six lines (which reads like a separate stanza) loses this.