Alone in a crowd

Thank god today’s lectures are over,
time to begin the ritual of alleviating my sober
state of affairs in which binds me anxious,
A few cans down, it fleets like trains at St Pancras

Alone in a crowd is what I use to describe
the feeling of climbing without getting high,
The moments of anguish in which you’re pushed to the side
by the feeling of longing beyond Friday night,

Friends in abundance and their smiles to back it,
your ego that is but it’s not hard to crack it,
a comment, a look, a lack of press of a button that pertain
to assure your enjoyment of a certain
event or a time you were feeling sublime,
but not valid unless broadcast on your timeline

Alone in a crowd, a shit place to be in,
Alone, by oneself, in a crowd, surrounded by people,
so how can this work, how can this equal?
well when one’s concerned with imagining and acting,
and the social conventions that make up a fraction,
of the day to day meetings that kindle trust as the strand,
like a kid with a Lego keystone in their hand,
Then one can often find themselves at odds,
when soon friendly acknowledgement is capped at mere nods,
Or the flurry of quick side eyed dismal,
Turns into conversation with tongues sharper than thistles,
I need not remind you of the worst time of all,
when you could be 8 feet tall yet still feel small,
And all this due to the need to feel proud,
Which often leaves you feeling alone in a crowd.