The crowd

I’m not one of them

But am swayed

Craning my neck in vain

Murmuring loud enough

Mimicking in eagerness

In the same breath and strength

But I am not one of them

Am fighting and shoving

Elbowing my way

My heart thumping in trepidations

Like one of them

Picking my share of tales

Keen with agitation

But I am not one of them

Running, standing still

Sweating in frustration

Trying to rush

Like one of them

Digging deep into the upsurge

Eaten deep into the crowd

Consumed in their madness

But I am not one of them

Yelling absurdities

Caught in their rage

Like one of them

Am absorbed

My tempo rising

But am tethered

Acclaiming and applauding

But I am not one of them