Cutting through life
at a million miles an hour.
Slices fly, flashing, past my window,
little reminders of time passing by.

Within itself,
within myself,
there is a shroud of loneliness.
An inhumanity
that propagates
as strangers rub shoulders
but spare no words.

And I sit here thinking
how a life can be summed
in three words
or a novel.