Lonely together

Lonely/Together

In rooms that echo with familiar laughter,

I sit among them—family, friends, a crowd—

yet feel the vast and freezing gulf that stretches

between my heart and every smiling mouth.

They speak, they touch my shoulder, raise their glass,

but no one reaches past the polished mask

to where the silence screams inside my chest.

I have more gold than any man should need,

wealth piled like mountains, status bright as flame.

Yet every luxury turns to dust and leaves

a bitter taste that bears no other name.

Joy is a stranger; happiness a lie

I bought with everything I sacrificed—

now rich beyond all measure, poor inside.

The worst wound festers in the quiet hours:

my children pass me like a distant dream.

I traded bedtime stories, tender scars,

for deadlines, deals, and an endless digital stream.

They call me “father” with a stranger’s eyes—

polite, respectful, yet I realize

I am a ghost who once forgot to live.

Around the coffee table, faces glow

blue from the altars clutched in every hand.

Fake smiles flicker in the status show

while real connection dies across the land.

Money speaks the loudest. Phones hum low.

We sit together, each of us alone—

scrolling through lives we’ll never truly know.

From this abyss a fragile hope is born.

I build an app with shaking, guilty hands—

Lonely/Together—a place where young and worn,

the young who ache, the old who understand,

might find the warmth that wealth could never give.

Let it become the bridge on which we live,

so no one else must drown in silent wealth.

I pour my broken years into its code,

praying late-born mercy might atone

for all the hearts I left along the road.