I walk listening to music
Inside my own tranquility,
Searching these lonely
Yet full streets,
Like a ghost town
For the sociable,
Attention is directed
Toward phone screens,
So we talk about the unspeakable
Silence at an awkward occasion.

We try filling the gaps that we lost,
The cracks that had been opened,
We seclude our souls in this
Marvellous giving world,
We reach for arms but
Can never seem to grab them,
We beg for help but can't seem
To give our own emptiness.

For all could be filling our gaps
Like we need to be fixed,
The falling trees and lives
Match those of sticks and stone,
Sticks resemble our innocence
Whilst stone indicate our hard
Relentless ways to hurt one another.

But I continue to stay in my own
Tranquil world of loneliness,
Because I've grown accustomed
To the curtains I can draw
So easily shut,
I've grown accustomed
To accepting that we will never
Be caring souls anymore.