I imagined it would be better,
1500 faces, 1500 souls,
But even 1500 faces could not make up for the loss of one as whole.
The rain fell from my face in streams and lakes, sometimes even rivers,
And the weather just got colder,
My heart every shade of the cold November.
1500 faces and souls,
None of them ever asked if I ever felt what it was like to be whole,
1500 faces I saw,
Each of them draining whatever was left in my heart,
1500 people I knew,
And all they probably saw was a fool.