He sits alone in an empty building full of people.
Expressionless, like he has no other place to be,
but wishes he was anywhere else.
He sits alone on the park bench looking out over the pond
As if his mind isn’t where his body is.
Dreaming about the past during the day.
He sits alone is his cold, lonely living room in an old rocking chair,
warming himself by the stove.
Watching the fire burn away his memories.
He sits alone dressed in black in an open field.
His eyes focused, blocking out the sound of sadness.
Left alone with her grave stone.
He sits alone.