You never see the lonely They hide in plain sight The floor below in Boyden With the tables packed and loud Hovering above, playing their Symphonies of belonging. The lonely sit among the statues The cold and silent stone The unwanted doppelgangers of Rome Below the echo of laughs like thunder Muffled conversations gather like clouds And rain down An added reminder That there's nothing here Nothing but the lonely As those who belong Collect their stories on Olympus Here I am Non-traditional Forgotten and old.