TERRY MCQUITTY
I sit, thinking about all the hearts that are in this world.
How some will turn out like the lights in an office building.
I think about all the people that the building could hold,
And how they all have their own battles to deal. "Sold."
I sit, thinking about the lonely nights where we cruise until dawn.
Laughing the night away, cigarette after cigarette.
How each of our hearts seems to beat at the same pulse in that single moment.
The morning light begins to peak over the horizon, the sun is beaming, and my friends are smiling.
I still can't shake the feeling of being utterly alone.
Even with all these hearts beating, I still can't find a meaning.
All these lives flashing before our eyes, and the suns rays just come to tickle my cheeks.
No one seems to understand what I mean.
The world just seems to pass on by, all these lives and hearts are just cars stalled on the freeway, waiting their turn to make a move.
In each car, a person, in each person, a mind, with each mind, a heart..
Still beating and pulsing to its own rhythm.
Still stopping and starting and stopping again.
Still making blood course through our veins.
Yes, the heart beats alone, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
Another.