I love the repetition throughout the poem!
Are we alone?
Is this solitary blue-green rock
the only life in the whole universe?
Is it determined to continue its lonely orbit
round and round
for us?
The only living, moving, thinking, feeling beings
Not just for light years, but anywhere?
Are we alone?
Is this universe the total of existence?
The singular speck in an inky black void
of nothing. Incomprehensible nothing.
Or is our existence a drop
in an ocean of worlds,
with galaxies, stars, planets, trees, poems
stretching on endlessly into the distance?
Are we alone?
Are humans the lone conscious life form?
Can nothing else think and feel like we do?
Can nothing else contemplate life, death,
existence, loneliness like we can?
Can nothing else write?
Are we the singular species
on the singular planet
in the singular universe
for whom emotions were made?
Am I alone?
Does no-one else feel what i feel?
think what I think?
question as I question?
In all this vastness is it truly possible
that I may be utterly unique?
Utterly different? Utterly alone?
Will no-one else,
in all of time and space,
in all of infinity,
the coulds and could-nots,
ever write a poem like this again?
I am alone.
I know it,
because no-one else,
in all of forever,
in all conceivable reality,
will ever be able to tolerate me
contemplating existence like this
for more than about ten seconds.
The poem explores the existential questions of loneliness, existence, and uniqueness from a personal and cosmic perspective. The poem is structured as a series of rhetorical questions, each one expanding the scope of inquiry from the Earth, to the universe, to the human species, and finally to the individual. The poem uses imagery of space, such as "solitary blue-green rock", "inky black void", and "ocean of worlds", to contrast the vastness of the cosmos with the isolation of the speaker. The poem also uses repetition, such as "Are we alone?" and "round and round", to emphasize the circularity and futility of the speaker's quest for answers. The poem ends with a paradoxical statement that the speaker is alone because no-one else can tolerate their contemplation of existence, implying that they are both unique and alienated.
The poem is written in a free verse form, with no rhyme or meter. The poem uses informal language, such as "us", "we", and "i", to create a conversational tone and a sense of intimacy with the reader. The poem also uses punctuation, such as dashes, commas, and periods, to create pauses and breaks in the flow of the text. The poem has a long length, spanning 28 lines and four stanzas. The poem uses a professional tone, as it does not express any strong emotions or opinions, but rather poses philosophical questions and observations.
Hello fellow! I'm TheoCannot, here to review this beautiful poem!
The thing that made me wanna read this, was the title. After reading, I can tell you, that I relate. I relate to that poem so bad. I think that your way of thinking is... Quite right, mysterious in some kind of way too.
I love your perspective, and way of writing. The words you choose, make perfect sense, also giving out the meaning in a way, that'll crush you. It's making you wanna rethink- your life, the choices you make everyday, the point of your existence, who you really are and what's your place in the world.
Thank you for your work, I hope to see more in the future!
Hello there! This is Orabella, here with a review! ^^
You have completely blown me away! I literally love this poem so much. It's got so much character and feeling, and it's just absolutly beautiful! 
For the record, I don't need to tolerate you contemplating existence because this is not something I have to tolerate. This is something I genuinely enjoy! I came into this thinking it was going to be a cliche poem about the universe, but you proved me wrong almost the second I started reading! This isn't a cliche poem to read and forget - it's a person that deserves to be remembered! 
Right from the start we begin with the most important line:
Are we alone?
with galaxies, stars, planets, trees, poems
In all this vastness is it truly possible
that I may be utterly unique?
Utterly different? Utterly alone?
120,214 Literary Works • 649,127 Reviews
Points: 319
Reviews: 35
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