Somebody Nobody

Everybody is somebody.
Somebody is nobody.
That somebody is me.

I am nobody.
It's me.
Today.



Everybody has somebody.
Somebody has nobody.
That somebody is me.

I have nobody.
It's me.
Today.



Here, in this distant place,
I run to and fro without pace,
looking for somebody.
But there awaits nobody.

That's me.
It will only ever be me.



Here I journeyed long,
a heart without a song.
Then I heard a gong—
life pongs
with all its wrongs.



Baffled, I cry out,
thinking of lucks—
of some ducks—
and me, the dropout.

Life pongs.
Sometimes with all wrongs.



Somebody will have everything.
Someday.

That somebody is me?
Or is that just another lie I tell myself?

Life is nothing.
It's the same every day—
without you.
Or me.
Or anyone who stays.