The noises seem like silence,
crowded places and busy minds.
The paces of the people are like echos of their souls,
they're walking and running and following with their lifes.
It's just like any other day in a big gray city.
I'm passing between hundred of the same black coat,
drowning in the sea of umbrellas.
But I watch the mud on my boots let footprints on the wet street,
like a whisper telling to another daydreamer that I was here.

Being alone with your thoughts.
I describe it like being in the highest cliff
trying to concentrate in the beauty,
but still listening clearly the whispers of
the distant floor calling for my fall.
Strangely, It's tempting.
It's not me, may not be..
Is your reflection even yours
if you might not even be alone
in your own mind?

**Am I really alone?