i was born alone

there is no one
i will ever know
like i know me

i am alone

i touch others
and feel their touch
like a bubble

i will be alone

if i can’t love me
then how
can i love another

i will die alone

maybe then i will get
to know me
or not

as the case may be

13.09.13 | Categories: life is beautiful, poetry, rose | Tags: existentialism, no tags, poor poetry, real feeling, satre and all those cunts | 9 Comments