Anonymous faces,
anonymous minds.
All designed to suit
anonymous times.

The world is adrift,
mindless and mental.
It's harsh and realistic,
yet still sentimental.

To feel is to die
and no longer to feel.
Mouthing the words
that are no longer real.

Around them is panic,
distress and then pain,
but inside their heads
there's no rule to this game.

Nobody is feeling
and nobody cares.
Ruin and failure
in authority's chairs.

No one is living,
no one is dead.
There's nothing going on
in nobodies head.

No one understands,
nobody teaches.
Nobody is nothing,
yet still he has features.

No one is me,
nothing is me too.
Is nobody you
or are you just me too?