Alone...............even in circle
I feel alone,
I am lonely,
And some where aloof,
Crowd is there,
But, nobody known,
No similarity at all,
Different faces,
Keep me confused,
Searching identity,
Nothing properly suit,
At last, it makes me,
Uncomfortable, unlike
And clueless,
Try to adjust,
Yet, poorly dull n loose,
Not find any interest,
And introverted itself,
Being single,
Seem standing without row,
Waiting for chance,
To bring out best from good,
Yah! Nobody is there,
Although, I am there for you,
Attempting to assemble influence,
“Crowd” of own,
A queue of alone,
A presence of mine,
A mob of loneliness…………………..
poem by Abhishek Anand
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Related quotes
Broken
I'm A Lonely Road Of
Broken Dreams
Its A Boulevard That
I'm Searching For
These Stars Are All
So Dull
Its The Moon That I'm
Searching For
Happiness Is So Angry
At Me
Its Life That I'm
Searching For
There Is A Crowd
Around Me At All Times
Its a Friend That I'm
Searching For
My Life Is Just Like
Path
Its A Destination That
I'm Searching For
Don't Know What Is It
That I've Lost
May Be Its 'ME' That
I'm Searching For! !
poem by Vizard Dhawan
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I have takers
My skin is dark unlike yours.
My breasts are small unlike yours.
I am equally proud of mine
As I have a crowd whose taste I suit.
23.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Lost in a Crowd
Lost in a crowd no one else
Lost in a crowd all by myself.
A lonely party, only one? Me.
A lonely party, not even three.
Lost in a crowd but there's
soemthing i see! Is it a mirror
reflecting me?
No it's another! Lost like me.
He turns around and i bet he see's!
We join together, Lost in a crowd
Were lost in a crowd, not a single frown.
Lost in a crowd.
poem by Kiara Anderson
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People Are Lonely Like You!
People are lonely
So how do they look, the lonely?
Where do they go?
What do they do?
So many too many lonely people
Our they the 'face in the crowd? '
Or are they the crowd of faces
Looking out
Sheep in a pen
Walking the streets and back again
People are lonely
Do they sit 'alone in a bar'
Or linger under trees with their dreams
And flask of tea for one
Is lonely being lonely, not much fun?
Or do the lonely hide under smiles in the throng
Laughing the loudest trying to fit to belong
To a band of misfits on the run
From their own loneliness
Is 'being lonely' a cry of distress?
Or the only true road that leads to happiness?
I don't know about you, who may or may not be lonely,
But I hate crowds, all those annoying lonely faces pushing in,
Can't you hear the din of their thoughts out loud?
So many masks too much fakery
Too much nervous eating of cakes 'hot from the bakery'
Rather spend time alone than hang out with a 'phone'
Who is lonelier than me?
Give me a room with a view, the fresh air and the sea
And I savour the bliss of being set free from the madness if crowds
This 'fake harmony'
by eva tidwells anthology 'A hysterectomy of delerium on the underground at rush hour'
poem by Yvette Smith
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Lonely, ,
Lonely and alone I am
my soul's always lonesome
in a crowd of loneliness
it sounds sad and lonely
hiding loneliness alone
the lonely lone alone
Lonely is a single traveller
on a dark and winding road.
Lonely is the burden
of carrying a heavy load.
Lonely is a beautiful song
that no one's ever heard,
and lonely is the wait for death
by a broken winged bird.
Lonely is the emptiness
inside my hollow soul,
and lonely is the sound of the wind
blowing through its gaping hole.
Loneliness is second only
to the darkened void of death
and loneliness is taking
that 'Right' to Hell
when I should have made a 'Left'.
Lonely is the sound
of an infant
who sadly cries in vain,
and lonely is his addict mother
shooting poison in her veins.
Lonely is the boy
who will never become a man
and lonely is the brink of disaster
upon which I know I stand.
Lonely is the poem
which has gone on long enough
and lonely is the sympathizers
who say I've, 'had it rough'.
Lonely is my life
lived without family or friend
and lonely is the last word of this poem
because it's always at the...
End.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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So Lonely Alone
So lonely alone am I
My soul's lonesome in the crowd of loneliness
It sounds sad and lonely
Hiding loneliness alone
The lonely lone alone
Lonely is a single traveller
On a dark and winding road.
Lonely is the burden
Of carrying a heavy load.
Lonely is a beautiful song
That no one's ever heard,
And lonely is the wait for death
For a broken winged bird.
Lonely is the emptiness
Inside my hollow soul,
And lonely is the sound of the wind
Blowing through its gaping hole.
Loneliness is second only
To the darkened void of death
And loneliness is taking
That 'Right' to Hell
When I should have made a 'Left'.
Lonely is the sound
Of a lonesome infant
Who sadly cries in vain,
And lonely is his addict mother
Shooting poison in her veins.
Lonely is the boy
Who will never become a man
And lonely is the brink of disaster
Upon which I know I stand.
Lonely is the poem
Which has gone on long enough
And lonely is the sympathisers
Who say I've, 'had it rough'.
Lonely is my life
Lived without family or friend
And lonely is the last word of this poem
Because it's always at the...
…End.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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The Dreaded Word, And Mindset
Ones who dwell alone don’t mean they are lonely
Priest who’ll wear a collar don’t make them lowly
There are many who are, at times, lonely in a crowd
Faring not to get close to these, for demands to loud
I empathize, once, a muse about this needed theme
Thus, the crowd scatters like a dreaded scary dream
Inevitably, I’m breaking through mindsets, you can bet
Dynamically changing the strongholds of the mind and yet
Few weight 'the whole scenario' and come to Truth’s logic
If we can’t put some concept in a box then let’s dodge-it
My passion of Truth’s whole has freed my soul from fear
Presumption can stir a fear of others lonely, not to care
Language created loneliness denoting the pain of alone
While the word solitude to expresses the glory of a thone
Little do men know what solitude is, and how far it extends
A crowd's not company, faces but pictures; talk not all of friends
poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
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We Will Meet Again
Was it the words she said or was it all in the way in which the lady said them?
Her eyes that spoke to me were sending my heart a thought so deep I cant forget them
I guess it wasnt the right time or the place
For love right then
But we met destiny, and it sealed our fate
Chorus:
Well me again (we will meet again)
I know we will (we will meet again)
On my heart its written (we will meet again)
Somewhere, someplace, somehow Ill find her then as I did now... just for a moment
And I will hear the wind that told me
I will return again my love have patience
Lifes a circle, it all comes back around, so until then...
Ill be waiting for you knowing somehow?
Repeat chorus
And if she were standing in a crowd
Shed be the one that I would find among the faces
And if the music was too loud
Itd be her voice that I would hear
Above it all (we will meet again)
I know we will (we will meet again)
I know we will (we will meet again)
And if she were standing in a crowd
Shed be the one that I would find among the faces
And if the music was too loud
Itd be her voice that I would hear
Above it all (we will meet again)
I know we will (we will meet again)
On my heart its written (we will meet again)
From this day till... (we will meet again)
Well me again (we will meet again)
Well me again (we will meet again)
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXI: Crowd
Be inside of the crowd and you’ll get that euphoria strike
Be outside of the crowd and you’ll get a better spot
Be inside of the crowd and you’ll feel so high
Be outside of the crowd and you’ll find who’s right
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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0412 Their World
It's a sepia photograph, taken, I'm guessing,
1900,1910? The whole of it is taken up by
a crowd on the move, passing the photographer,
who could be, say, clinging to a lamp-post, or on a balcony.
Going to? Leaving? Impossible to tell.
Who's rich? Who's poor? No clue.
What's it got to tell you about - life?
Why go on looking at it? No reason
except that you're human; they were human; and
today, you wish, with increasing intensity,
to connect. In some way. Somewhere at the back of
uncomfortable mind, maybe, lurks the thought that one fine day,
you'll be that anonymous one in that anonymous crowd,
forever recorded - dead on the page;
by the irony of history, photographed
when you were sure that you were alive forever...
There's one chap in the crowd looking at the camera;
as the artist, in some Renaissance adoration, and
slightly aloof from the crowd's concern,
looks out of history at you the spectator - as if to say
I'm there; I'm here; and what of you?
But he's no artist; he's looking boldly at the camera,
a cigarette between his lips at 45 degrees from the vertical -
a cheeky angle you never see today; the equivalent, I guess,
of the V-sign at the camera, as some meaningless, cocky, lively,
spontaneous act of defiance -at what?
Now you can 't put the photo down.
It's like picking at a scab or
a joyless masturbation. It threatens - you threaten -
your sense of security; whatever that might be.
Every one of that crowd lived a valid life.
You'd like to be one of them - or would you?
Why aren't you filled with a joyous sense
of identity and compassion?
A selfish greed, perhaps, to know more than you ever can?
Maybe, one day, you'll pick up that photo once again
and greet them like old friends.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Loneliness
People are irreplacable,
That's what makes them special.
If all goes well,
You will find someone else
Who is special in their own way.
Otherwise, loneliness destroys you
Day by day.
How do you think the single folks feel?
Those who have never fooled around,
Still waiting for that special person?
Maybe never to find someone
To be thankful for.
The whole package called love
Either works or it's a compromise
Or it's a dragged-out affair.
But never to get started at all
Is quite burdensome.
It's not as great as missing
The one you love, feeling guilty
About seeking someone else...
Being single is being called free...
Who wants to be free
If you're as lonely as hell?
Who wants to be free if suffering
The effects of unrequited love?
Who wants to be free
With money in your pockets but
Nobody to buy birthday presents
And Saint Valentine's Day cards for?
Who wants to spend Christmas Day
Alone at home? And what use is
Celebrating a Happy New Year
If it's another year alone?
The dark Winter days are upon us.
We go out... we return home...
Yet nobody greets us, kisses us,
Makes us a cup of tea...
Nobody inquires how we are doing...
Or asks if anything
Interesting happened today...
Surrounded by people... strangers:
The good, the bad and the ugly...
Yet even beautiful people
Can feel lonely, too...
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Lonely Spider
The lonely spider reaches out
For what, you might ask?
If not to spin his web then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider calls out
For what, you might ask?
If not for his mate then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider waits
For what, you might ask?
If not for his food then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
'A spider doesn't have feelings! '
How should you know?
'A spider isn't that smart! '
That could be true.
'A spider can never have a real identity! '
And neither could you, or any of us
But we try to find one even if we're not looking
And thats our life... after which we die
What have we done with our life up until then?
Either we've thrown it away, gave it up, wrecked it, lived it up to the fullest, took it for granted, or got far in it.
We still had one.
It's up to us what we shall do with it
Just like the lonely spider
Who will probably just end up on the bottom of your shoe anyways
poem by Andreanna Atkins
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The loneliness of lonely lone left alone
lone
lonely alone I won't
my soul's lonesome in the crowd of loneliness
it sounds sad and lonely
hiding loneliness alone
the lonely lone alone
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Early Works - The Lonely
Among the background of a crowd
with voices raised aloud
is heard a plaintive sigh
of all the lonely
who have imprisoned themselves
within their lonely soul
and they cry out
as loneliness is conquered by restlessness.
Within their womb they search
for love they’ve been rejected
they try to find in the past
what they should have selected,
but tossed to one side
because it might have hurt their pride.
Now they have to find it solemnly
to break out from being lonely.
Date unknown
poem by David Harris
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The crowd is the catalyst.
Whenever you are in the crowd
There I get you by sensual aid
As eyes are swords, more than words.
You are at ease in the crowd,
So private and so shrewd
In your approach to my side
That no one can suspect.
Enough. That only I expect.
A clear internet exists,
That binds us with no exits.
You are so sophisticated;
I am so intoxicated.
Whenever you are in the crowd
I never miss the very crowd.
You are the reason that I survive.
You are the cause my youth relives.
Whenever we are in the crowd
In us is lost the whole crowd.
We are fed when our eyes meet.
More than that, I want not.
Less than that, I stand not.
We are at ease in the crowd.
The whole time I shall incur.
I salute the crowd to recur.
30.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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24
in a crowd of people, in a sea of people
you can just be a wooden sail, and sail like
there are no people in there, in the sea of people,
you can just be yourself, like they do not exist,
you can even just be any kind of wave in there,
a small gentle wave with the usual sea cap, a white
foamy sea cap, indistinguishable like the rest of the
people in the sea of people, and in this sea where you
are just one of them, there is really no problem, you are
just like them, behaving just like anyone of them, and you can always be with them, lonely, lonely like them, always being like them, in a crowd, in this uniformity, in this
anonymity, but once it may occur to you, that there is
something in yourself that simply shouts, I can be out
from here, out of here, from this cacophony, from this loneliness,
I cannot wait anymore, in the sea of people, I can be out,
An outcast, and it does not matter, deep within I know I can feel it now,
my mother was a seagull, and I have always known how to fly.
The time is now to spread the wings that I have been hiding.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In A Crowd, In A Sea Of People
in a crowd of people, in a sea of people
you can just be a wooden sail, and sail like
there are no people in there, in the sea of people,
you can just be yourself, like they do not exist,
you can even just be any kind of wave in there,
a small gentle wave with the usual sea cap, a white
foamy sea cap, indistinguishable like the rest of the
people in the sea of people, and in this sea where you
are just one of them, there is really no problem, you are
just like them, behaving just like anyone of them, and you can always be with them, lonely, lonely like them, always being like them, in a crowd, in this uniformity, in this
anonymity, but once it may occur to you, that there is
something in yourself that simply shouts, I can be out
from here, out of here, from this cacophony, from this loneliness,
I cannot wait anymore, in the sea of people, I can be out,
An outcast, and it does not matter, deep within I know I can feel it now,
my mother was a seagull, and I have always known how to fly.
The time is now to spread the wings that I have been hiding.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Go Away
Everytime I see you now it makes me feel so bad
Reminds me of the memories I wish I never had
Standing in a crowded room too dark for me to see
Someones pushing from behind, just leave me room to breathe
And go away from me, just go away
To another time, another place
To another world, another dream
Go away from me...
Walking down the sidewalk in a crowd that doesnt care
Bumping into shoulders every eye is on the street
Theres a man with tattered clothes whos cursing at the air
Everyone is slowing down to catch a little peak
(repeat chorus)
Everytime I wake up and I see myself again
Staring in the mirror like a burnt out piece of wood
Searching every feature for a single trace of life
Couldnt find the answer cause the mirror never lies
(repeat chorus)
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Raindrops Falling On His Hair
The people standing all around
That slight limp body on the ground.
It shouldn’t be allowed you know
Said one old lady, even though
I think they bring it on themselves
They start on drugs when they're just twelve
They never have a chance it seems
Of having childlike childhood dreams.
I blame the parents, said her friend
They were not with her at the end
Nor were they there much in her life
If only someone else had tried
To bring her up a decent way
That’s really all I have to say.
The crowd dispersed and standing there
Raindrops falling on his hair
Stood one sad man sad man indeed
Seeming that he couldn’t leave
He wore the clothes of lonely men
Eyes heavy with abandonment
He wore the weight of someone frail
He wore the look of someone failed.
Then he knelt down and kissed the air
It was his daughter lying there.
19 September 2004
poem by David Keig
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One Face
One face in a crowd is hard to find.
One face in that crowd is on my mind.
How can I find the face of one,
The face that to me is like the sun?
Shiny and bright with a radiant glow,
The face that picks me up when I'm low,
Eyes that light up wherever they are
Just like the splendor of an evening star,
Lips that break into the sweetest smile
That lingers for me for the longest while,
Hair that surrounds that face like a frame
That always sets my heart aflame.
I search all the faces but cannot see
The one that means the world to me.
I'm lost. I'm wretched. This should not be.
There are too many faces. I'm lost at sea.
One last glance and to my surprise
There's your face, your smile, your eyes.
The crowd's still there but not for me.
For the face I love is all I see.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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