The Lonely

You see her crying

Sitting on that chair

That one chair, where no one is heard

An empty corner of vast defeat.

Going to school is the same old story

Fake smiles, fake people, and fake positivity.

Where kindness is mistaken for weakness or like.

Positivity hides the abuse, behind the eyes-

Where hides the empty and unheard cries,

Unknown to those around them.

The lonely are the lucky.

Friendships come and go, as often as parents fight and “make up”

People see but no one will ever take up, what it means to be a friend,

Each and every good deed done by those unseen is what it means to be happy.

So the lonely are the lucky because they know true content.

Each day a new dynamic

Tragic or magic, and yet unsatisfying

Because no one knows.

In and out like ants in a hive

A routine of constant habit

But now the garden is destroyed and there is one, ant, standing.

And now it is your turn to cry

On that chair in the corner

Where no one will hear

What echoes in your mind.