Gente Sola

There are people in line
at all the cinemas,
people who cry, people who laugh,
people getting in and out of a car,
people at the flea market and in elevators,
people on the bus,
in the subway, in the rain,
in a tree,
people on the hill,
dressed, naked,
singing,
people with shadows, with doubts,
people who long and help,
people living in fashion,
coming and going,
but how lonely they are.

There are people dreaming
hugging other people,
people who pray and then don't understand,
people sleeping on the riverbank,
people in parks, people in books,
people waiting on the benches
of all the squares,
people dying on the edge
of every word,
people counting the hours,
people feeling like extras,
people looking for other people
in the same city,
but how lonely they are.

People in the noise and smoke
of all the bars,
people who in their hearts
multiply the loaves,
people with bouquets of flowers,
people drunk with love,
people digging their own grave,
who can't take it anymore,
but how lonely they are.

People with bouquets of flowers,
people drunk with love,
people digging their own grave,
who can't take it anymore,
but how lonely they are.