There is No Crowd
The crowd has many a time been compared to a raging sea,
Crashing in every shade of blue against the torrent released by the sky,
Laying calmly and reflecting the beauty of the world that dances along its tide,
And everything in between is waiting to be described in deathly detail by someone who can't help but trace its intricacy with eyes full of wonder.
Yet here I stand,
On a dry, malnourished island.
The long told description of the horizon melting into the waters has left me unspoken, untold, overlooked.
I will linger.
I will await my turn.
I'll wait until the sea pulls me in,
For when it wants to take me,
I'll be more than willing to drown.