There are too many empty people in this crowded room
Each slowly draining the contents of the cups in their hands
I can almost hear the liquid as it makes its way down their throats, trying to fill their souls
And as meaningless words slip clumsily off of their tongues
I’m left wondering why I came here
I might as well be on my own
Maybe I’m not cut out for empty people, empty cups, empty conversations
I think I would be much happier, much better off, if I was alone.