I sit in silence,

Waiting for nothing,

Nobody,

Or anything. 

I just listen,

Listening to quiet,

Listening to my own 

Thoughts. 

Nothing moves, 

Apart from the waving of the 

Leaves,

And the occasional 

Bird taking flight. 

I close my eyes,

And smell the smell of 

Nature and her creatures,

Plants,

And the blissful

Nothingness. 

Sometimes,

Being alone is as nice as

Being with other people. 

I like it. 

 It's loud,

Rushing, shouting noises,

Cars blaring their horns, 

People selling to each other

From across the street. 

Fumes,

Smoke and smog

Clog my nose,

Making my eyes water. 

Bright neon signs,

Lights that blind me,

I blink

In shock. 

The city is loud and 

Bright, 

But I like it. 

It's nice.