Alone

Lonely is my anger,
as I harvest my load.
I was my own stranger,
S.O.S. should be my code.

Little did I know,
I was but alone.
As I tried to grow,
I was just a clone.

It is not my whim,
when in the sky.
I could never swim,
nor can I fly.

You do not see,
my cries of sorrow.
I was never me,
I may die tomorrow.

I am but a speck,
of no use.
Without a loaded deck,
i'm a cooked goose.