countless throngs pass by,
never looking up...
as if I were medusa...one glance at
me would petrify, all bodily blood
flow forever ceasing.
on and on they continue,
destinations determined and devotions
dissolving before my eyes.
safer on the inside and besides
I don't have a ticket to reside
within the confines of a safer,
softer microcosmos. instead, I drift
on the outside; my mind set on trying to survive
and my body crying to die.