Empathy

Our pantry guy
talks to himself.
Smiles most of the times.
Blabbers
Makes sounds.
Shares jokes with himself.

Unlike me
He doesn't need
People, books, television, mobile phones
To fight loneliness.
He is his own company.

Sometimes
When I see him
Half dead
Snoring on the sofa
I wonder how much life he has taken in.
How much is still left.

Just the other day
To top it all
Someone joked:
Let him sleep full time
He's been working here since 20 years
On a temporary basis and
Lives alone in the suburbs.

How I interpreted that
Is still a mystery but
Since that day
I am able to understand all his self-incurred smiles and sounds.
I get all his jokes now on a regular basis.

It seems the poet was right after all
"the world has failed us both"