Humans, creatures of affection,
we crave the touch of another being.
The blood that pulses under the finger tips
of another like us.
Minds that wander, learn and
create, like our own.
We yearn for
that rush you feel inside
when your soul fits with another.
Like leaves falling in autumn,
landing softly in the outstretched palms of the grass.
The knowledge that somone
understands
and feels the things we do.
That knowledge is what allows us sleep.
That knowledge,
that hope, is what keeps
the lonely
going.