Summer.
Crowded airports,
crowded swimming pools,
crowded
rollercoasters’ lines.
But empty schools.
Midnight.
Crowded night
clubs, crowded bars,
Times Square
crowded.
But empty parks.
War.
Crowded battle
fields, crowded hospitals,
crowded refugee
camps.
But empty streets.
Empty tables at
that empty restaurant,
where they used to
meet.
Empty chairs at
that empty table,
where they used to
sit.
Empty chairs
because they aren’t there.
And they will never
be again.
Alone in this world,
now I am, no more friends.
They’re all dead.