We hide our innermost stories
For-what would they think about?
In the middle of the story
We find a bunch of strangers.

We name them lovers,friends,soulmates
We call them the close
And suddenly we realize
They are just like us.

We call them cheat and we cry for them
How weird people are!
But at the eleventh hour
We find ourselves,fortunately.

And then,we start to love it-
The Sacred Solitude
They call us crazy but
We know inside-I'm in love with solitude!
© Stranger