Poetry

Maya Angelou (b. 1928)

Alone

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

For Maya Angelou's life and writings see http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/87.