Is this life?

For a long time now, I've felt tt my life is like this..

Bus stop

Lights are burning
In quiet rooms
Where lives go on
Resembling ours.

The quiet lives
That follow us-
These lives we lead
But do not own-

Stand in the rain
So quietly
When we are gone,
So quietly...

And the last bus
Comes letting dark
Umbrellas out-
Black flowers, black flowers.

And lives go on.
And lives go on
Like sudden lights
At street corners

Or like the lights
In quiet rooms
Left on for hours,
Burning, burning.

Donald Justice

.....My life is just one of many tiny flames, burning, burning....towards inevitable extinguishing in a quiet room. Everyday is like every other day. Mine is the same as hers/his/theirs. Perhaps it's not truly my life, since there's little part of me in it.
Perhaps some of us sit, in mutual loneliness, even when surrounded with friends, waiting...
waiting for something, someone to arrive. Presuming it would ever arrive. How many of us really own our lives? How many more live it out for the sake of living?

That's why:

'Ah, love, let us be true
to one another! for the world, which seems
to lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
where ignorant armies clash by night.'

-quoted from 'Dover beach' by Matthew Arnold

For all the beauty in the world is only deceptively so, and more can be 'enjoyed' for a price. How cynical, huh. lol.
Consider a world without humans/animals-beautiful as it is, what joy is there? The only real, priceless comfort we have can only be found in each other.