Untitled - January 18, 2002

Even in the crowded spaces,
I feel alone;
even as the voices are raised in laughter,
I don't feel their joy.

There is an emptiness
that echoes within -
a sense of want
that hides the sadness felt.

A shroud of detachment
muffles the white noise
surrounding me.

Time doesn't pass fast enough
these days...

Slow down, speed up --
time gets away from me;
I count the moments
until we meet again.