The fray does not acknowledge me

But spirals on, unassuming.

Funny, how our private tragedies,


that plunge us even further

through a miraged rock bottom,

are invisible to everyone else.

There is no crossing guard

proclaiming a firm neon ‘stop’

against the aggressive brute force

of an unhumdrum daily life.

Nobody to shout that I just need some air

a beat, a breath, relief.

To the world, I am a number.

Doctors, reps, CEOs, policymakers & power players

–whatever they call themselves–

all see us the same way.

they have already decided all that

I am

we are

and all that we can give


it’s time for us to turn ‘I’ to ‘we’ again

turn patches of hell

into pockets of haven

and prove them wrong.

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