Lonely, But Never Alone.

By Devalacheruvu Ridhima

I climb onto the bus, everyone tightly packed like sardines,

The mid of July; sweat in the air, the unbearable sultry summer heat.

As the traffic passes by, and the signal lights change, everyone chattering on endlessly

Another child climbs in, sitting next to me.

We do not utter a word, not a thought shared,

As we make our way to school, in absolute silence, not a sound spared.

The sound of the bell beckons the class to a halt; the teacher leaves the class,

The classroom erupts out in cheers, for we finally have the pass,

For a small reprise, some time to socialize in the middle of the day,

But I stay seated in my chair, as the students walk my way,

Passing right by me, ignored like every other week.

I stick with my books in silence, knowing well, all expect me to remain this quiet and meek.

The corridor fills with a tidal wave of bobbing heads and school bags,

The air is one of joy, arm in arm everyone runs, each friend dragged.

I scurry past them all, first in line,

To run back to my house, my sacred shelter, quiet and divine.

I brave the bus ride back to my home, still disregarded in grace, 

As soon as the bus comes to a pause, to get back to my room is a race.

The day finally winds to an end, as supper is laid down on the table runner’s bend,

We are all seated in merry conversation, some family time to spend.

I laugh at a quip, and add in my own point,

But it is ignored, for in the conversation, I am not joined.

When I lay in bed at night, I ponder my predicament.

For I am always lonely, but never alone, such a curious case is my ailment!

By Devalacheruvu Ridhima