There's no title.
No beginning.
No, there's no ending as well.
These are the parts
In which we all
Are caught up.

In which we all
Spend our days:
Wondering,
Wandering.
Lost,
Found.
But never at the ending.

We are common in these parts.
Where the sugar-coated lie
Sometimes break
And we can see:

We are all caught in this whirlwind of commonness. Of the lonely parts.