Self Greed, For the Things Within Me Are Mine

Single people riding the bus. Single handily taking all the spaces where single thoughts will ride from each single stop, swiftly getting on, singly getting off. Single people walking down the street, in massive groups, disguising the singleness, and each single day merging into each single week, each single month, each single year. A single decade of single hope. Single greed, clouding up single ambition and single moments colliding into a single emotion. That sane emotion cutting and dividing into a single attribute and that same spot of consistency hurrying at the single education of single atonement. The forever turmoil of regrouped singleness to mirage the concept of forever we stand alone and alone we stand alone, a better friend of mine than those clustered together, sharing a brain and a heart and a thought and often shoes and pants. Self greed for the things within me are mine.