Ohh how I long not to be the silent stranger

Nights left with no connections to contact

No transportation to travel

The weight of such destroys a broken back

Until such a soul yearns to be burried under gravel.

No phone calls

No visitors

No job to be filled with his skill

His work goes unnoticed

As só does his existence

With little to no team to work out of this quicksand

The future looks dark

he has no strong grounds on which to stand.

His head gets swept under

His sadness smothers him

He feels like his mother’s blunder.