Perpetual Alone-ness

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Perpetual Alone-ness

I lie awake,
tossing, turning.
Sleep will not come, it lies not nigh.
So I lie, and recall

Those gay days of children
laughing, playing, dreaming.
And I, corner ridden
head to knees, rocking, tuning them out.

My eyes begin to shimmer,
as pools of light, shining.
I turn toward wall,
and then remember

Crowded hallways
people hither and thither
always in pairs, groups, swarms
talking, complaining, sharing.
And I, trudge through those crowded halls,
silent, stony, trying to tune them out.

A lone tear runs down my face,
lighting a path to below
A car goes by, music blaring,
and I am taken

To countless dances, proms,
packed bodies, bright colors,
people dancing enjoying the warmth of human connectedness.
And I, sit alone, rigid, controlled.
Yet I feel like screaming, the world is so wrong!
But I do not.
A couple dancing, I wish just for a moment,
that I could be them.

Reality pulls me back
to my dark abode.
Tears run freely down my face,
as wild, equine things.
I turn again, and come face to face,
with Misery, my bedfellow, my only companion.
She is as cold and dark as I, as my heart.

She wraps her arms around me, and I am taken.
My dreams are full of chaos, wracking pain, despair.
Yet I am asleep, complete,

Alone

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When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

Malthias3’s Poems (2)

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Perpetual Alone-ness 0
The Travels of Me 0