many times I stand in a crowd and feel so alone
the world seems to be passing me by, leaving me behind
everyday the finishing line gets further and blurer
the colours slowly ebbing away, exposing the ugly concrete grey
I’m getting used to people dear going away
betrayal. heartaches. relocation.
very soon nothing’s gonna really matter anymore
just another drop of despair in the murky depths of angst
*It seems the older one gets, the smaller the space to dream*