Resigned to my isolation,
stuck in stasis sure as death
Weary of my solitude
and pained to not be by myself.
I went out to find the crowd
for comfort and, for company.
In each face I saw, allowed,
reflections of the jail of me.
Sharp and cutting as a knife,
how it did cleave me to the bone
each was trapped in his own life.
Even together; all are alone.
I returned to my cell
full of dread and, distress.
Each man creates his own hell;
mine, my lingering loneliness.
This one of few poems written by you, that you actually let a reader in. Its really some of your best raw and honest works to my knowledge.
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