canteen q. 85p

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distant planets,

hollow souls,

murky silhouettes of,

forgotten ghosts,

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I lay a stranger to their chaos,

and remain a friend to the silence,

invisible in their black holes,

asking of my compliance,

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upwards and around,

don't know where to look but the ground,

I catch the eyes of another,

dodging left + right in the pack of sardines, I suffer,

with blobs of faces unknown in the sunlight,

seeing in black and white,

no colour, no sight.

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https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/90joGpeIec

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/mo1QeOlMWu

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***This poem captures the alienation I felt standing in line, looking into people's eyes—those 'black holes' and 'distant planets' that sometimes feel too far to reach