Talking To Ourselves

I look up at the sky.
I can make out many clouds drifting by.
So many people must have looked up at them.
Whether they were sharing love or grief,
They all have something in common.
We’re all living beings.

Yet we find we are confiding ourselves in things,
that doesn't even have a beating heart.
We all have our reasons but mainly we are just lonely.
I'll never quite grasp the fact,
no one will truly be satisfied with who they are
or who they are yet to become.

I’ll never stumble across why people talk to non living things.
But I like to think our secrets somewhat help keep them sane.

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