Lagrima

Recently, I was going through some old books and stumbled across my futile attempts at poetry (or writing). Perhaps from time to time, I'll share a piece on this blog. Bear with me as I was no famous poet (and I'm sure these pieces will attest to that).

Lagrima (Italian for teardrop)

~ written in April 1998 ~

sometimes I'll just sit there and think
I'll think about the world and how it works
and I'll think about all the different people
and all the different languages and cultures

then I'll start to think how I'm just one person
one person in this large place
a large place with no borders or limits
and here I am all by myself, standing alone

but then I think about life
and how real it is
like if I just held my breath, I'd wake up
wake up from a dream
or everything would just disappear
disappear into nothing, where nothing exists
then I realize that I'm thinking too much
and that my life isn't a dream
so I continue to sit there thinking
thinking about everything
but then I try to stop thinking again
which makes the thoughts race through my mind faster
I try to keep myself busy, so I turn on the television
but the thoughts engulf me
I turn off the television and sit all by myself
and I start to think about how alone I am
my eyes begin to water,
and a tear rolls down my cheek