To be a piece
To be at peace
Don’t call me on my homophone
It’s likely that I am alone
But is alone, a singular state? Alone because you are unknown? A loan because you want a home?
Peace is often associated with solidarity; something for which we’ve waited
A state sedated, perhaps over rated
Peace for me is found in a crowd
Strangers to surround, ears are filled with the din of a city’s sound
Camouflaged by the anonymity of vicinity to those with whom we share our city
What is my piece?
Where am I at peace? Do we ever really know until we’re deceased?