In throngs of faces, each a silent sea,
I walk alone, unnoticed and unseen,
Amidst the chatter, yet apart, I flee
To realms where solitude may intervene.

Surrounded by a multitude, I yearn
For solace in the crowd's incessant din,
But hearts remain untouched, as I discern
The loneliness that dwells beneath the skin.

What irony to feel so lost, so small,
Amidst the bustling streets and city lights,
To sense a void within the festive ball
Of merry faces and their brief delights.

Here I stand, amidst the bustling crowd,
A soul adrift, where silence cries aloud
© @Gj🐢