Our protagonist strive to become a place, rather than a person
and the race was held with grace indeed, for a decade or so
people gathered inside of the protagonean air
bringing laughter, games and beer
smacking square, in the face of loneliness, until

the people were tall enough to reach their dreams
stepping up on lanes into the air, winding careers
heights crippling for legs knowing naught but fears
a bit short for taking steps in their own stairs

as the protagonean place had grown larger
the ungrown protagonean person got lost, farther, still
as face after face left the protagonean space
a place become a desert, the colossal expanse dying from droughts
demanding tears, beers or maybe a pill against doubts
yes, every face lost, a cosmically sized fright of suspected disgrace
now our protagonist’s apologizing to loneliness’ battered face

as my tissue cross the corner of loneliness’ mouth
it speaks to me, you see, if it’s a land you want to be
there’s lots of tops with drops for that, jumping’s free
you’ll want to fly and flee
you’ll be scared
but before you know it, you’ll be a place
with a size of about two meters
squared

but, loneliness added, I know some ways of my own
please walk your desert with me
or I’ll become alone