Feeling alone in this world, even when surrounded by many.
It\'s difficult to explain, but may as well be without any.
Because in the center of a crowd is me.
And everyone is so busy they just do not see.
I have become an island and invisible to the eye.
It wouldn\'t make any difference if I raised my arms to fly.
Being lonely is a life of silence in that your inner feelings are never expressed.
And you deal with things alone, can soon become depressed.
That place of comfort, a place you can be free,
Is such a vital requirement to be a healthy me.
It\'s important to talk, to laugh, to feel,
It\'s important to be touched to know you\'re real.
When someone is starved of all of this,
It\'s so much deeper than simply being missed.
To become an island in a crowd takes time,
and on the surface we smile, act out all is fine.
But scratch that surface, dig a little deep.
There is a person on her knees, all she does is weep.
In need of that touch, that arm around her strong.
A reason to feel she\'s wanted, a purpose to belong.
A kind word, a look, or the whisper of a warm breath,
could be the difference from giving up or longing for death.
A lonely person holds a story and is waiting for someone to open and take the book.
Not all is what it seems, so show you care, take time to have a look.
Lets build a bridge of hope and give rescue,
they dont enjoy this place they are in, would you?