The Way Things Work

Isn't it funny,
How everyone around you has someone to love.

But you still don't know what that love is.
What that love feels like, or if you ever will.

Isn't it strange,
How solitude has finally rusted into the purity of loneliness.

I've closed my eyes and wished on too many stars, too many candles.

Isn't it odd,
How you have no one to talk to.

And they all have someone to hold their hand,
And ask them what's wrong.

Isn't it ironic,
How everyone is glowing,
And I'm the only one without a light in the room.