All alone

Imagine you are all alone
your world a bowl of glass,
the sound you hear distorted tone
like instruments of brass.

Your view of things distorted, too,
but for yourself it’s real,
and you accept this truth, for you
don’t know a different spiel.

But it’s the people that you miss.
No one to talk or touch,
which is no guarantee of bliss
but helps your life so much.

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