**A Lost Guy**
'' He wears a mask, but feels the din ''
He wanders streets with aimless feet,
A ghost among the thrumming beat.
With eyes that search for what’s unknown,
A heart once bright, now turned to stone.
In crowded rooms, he feels alone,
A drifting soul, a heart of bone.
The laughter fades, the smiles grow thin,
He wears a mask, but feels the din.
He dreams of roads he’s yet to find,
A heavy weight, a chilling cross.
A spark of hope, a quiet chant.
For even lost, he still can roam,
In seeking still, he’ll find a home.
About the Creator
Abbas
Versatile writer skilled in both tale & stories. Captivate readers with engaging content & immersive narratives. Passionate about informing, inspiring, & entertaining through words.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (1)
This was an amazing tribute for those of us who are searching for quiddity, something that the world cannot seem to give to us, something that never changes, something that stays the same. (In crowded rooms, he feels alone, A drifting soul, a heart of bone.) my favourite line.