Solitude

Sometimes there is a loneliness

Worse than that of the solitary man

Cleaning and shining the floors

Of a McDonalds outlet at night;

Long after everyone's home,

All the smiles tucked away -

Lazy heads on cozy pillows,

Warm hands wrapped around

The ones they love and hold dear;

There are cars whizzing by, but

Even they're headed somewhere;

When even the watchman outside

Has a smiling mannequin for company.

Maybe, you hope, as you gather

Your karma, that someday the floor

Will be wet enough for you to see

A true reflection of yourself, and

You can then call this solitude instead...