Here I am in a house full of people,
Me in my empty house.
Here is a home for many settled souls,
Though mine is vagabond.
So many pearls at peace in their shells
While mine is unformed, unpolished;
Into a restive sandstorm it absconded
When it thought I couldn't tell.
Yet here I am in a house full of people,
And I try to bear it well.
Wow....love it. The worst kind of loneliness is feeling alone in the crowd. (saving to favorites)
sometimes we live in a house full of people or full of living. but we feel lonely inside. that is a nice one. perfetto....vero..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like the way you've expressed the feeling of loneliness within a crowd, particularly the association with the home. It's a really lovely poem!