Shells

I'm lost in a world full of sad people and empty shells. Literally. The streets are covered with shells, of all kinds. Egg, peanut, crab, lobster, you name. Shells all over. Always over. Sometimes under. Mostly under. They are left there by the sad people, walking around in utter disdain and without purpose, people afraid to be. They move in silence around commotion. There is no disharmony but there is nothing but it. Everything seems bleak. Rundown. Narrow. Impossible. Everything is impossible. Generalizations are impossible. Generalizations are all that occur. Generalizations are sustainable. Generalizations are.