Abandoned. I know this feeling. I know that land.
In the midst of the maddening crowd yet still unknown. In the land of dark mournful streets. Waiting on someone to sing the dirge. Lay siege to emptiness. Oh Yes. Abandoned is a place I know well. Too well. Virtually ignored save by one of a familiar tribe. Neglected. Abandoned.
I cry aloud to the Lord; I lift up my voice to the Lord for mercy. I pour out before Him my complaint; before Him I tell my trouble. Psalm 142:1-2 NIV
Roaming Urban Gypsy 