No one to share with in life’s little joys.
No one to talk to; just me and my toys.
An empty existence, a meaningless moan:
It’s cold and disheartening to be all alone.
No one to save me supposing I fall;
No one to nurture or notice at all.
I stare down each jeopardy all on my own:
It’s numb and unnerving to be so alone.
No one to drain my attention span dry.
No one my musings might dissatisfy.
Unshackled, I shine in what you can’t condone:
What mind wouldn’t revel in being alone?
Ed Morris, 2018
This page copyright © 2018 Edward A. Morris. Created December 30, 2018. Last updated January 6, 2019.
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