The existence of humanity is one of solitude
But if this is so why do I feel so empty?
You would think that I would be used to it

But even with others the flaw exists
Burning, swelling inside to such a point as I long for contact
A touch of something like myself
Reminding me I am what they say I am
I am a man, I am human, I am alive

But yet I feel like a tortured animal
Always starved of what I crave
Satisfied in the moment
But at its end left unfulfilled