Quiet.
Except the constant “plugged in” pitch.
Connected to… what?
Everything.
Yet many times
We feel alone,
It may be crowded
But we’re lone.
Togetherness cannot be seen,
It isn’t what it often seems.
But it’s a bridge between two hearts,
It is a light tearing the dark,
A bond that can’t be broken off,
A house built on a solid rock.
It’s something deep
That makes you fly
Across the feelings’ joyful sky.
It’s something to be longing for.
A friendship is a pot of gold.