Lonely Hill

Down a little side-road off the highway,
just a few minutes of quick walk away,
that is where they gathered all the dirt,
as that stretch of highway was built part by part.
It was just a huge heap of dirt and earth, but still,
people came to call it 'lonely hill'.
Indeed it was lonely in its stand,
being the only high throughout the level stretch of land
I came because I felt drawn to the name,
'Lonely hill', for I too was the same,
Lonely.

I saw so many everyday things, as I stood there,
that were thrown away and left without a care.
All of them, their purpose they had served,
and I wondered , if this is what I too deserved
because , as I thought through, in my mind,
neither a person or a purpose I could find
except me and mine, that I serve now
and it seemed to me somehow,
my existence was same as that of them
that pen that wouldn't write or that lighter without a flame,
that exist now just because they were made,
and it is an universal truth unsaid
that their absence wont be felt
by any one.

Author's Note

This is a draft ... will be polishing shortly .

Reviews

Now I've got that feeling once again .. (from Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd)

[.]

. beautifully written ... it's good to wonder about the purpose of one's existence ... there's always a chance such thoughts might reach a place that's incredibly constructive ... :) ...