Sometimes,
Willing to be part
Of the crowd,
He walks among them.
He knows he has forgotten
Something,
But what?
As they advance,
Ghostlike,
He remembers:
The thought occurs to him
That each of them is pretending.
Pretending to be together
When he is all alone.
Wandering exactly
Where the Lonesomeness lies.
Straight away, he runs,
Hundreds, thousands follow,
And now comes this awaited chaos.
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