Sunday, August 1, 2010

alone . . .




alone

he lived alone
he died alone
he laughed alone
he cried alone

to be alone was his way
him, himself, and his “i” each day
to no one was there debts to pay
to no one did he speak or say

“i love you” was the magic word
from no one’s lips has he ever heard
a sentiment he thought quite absurd
to touch another he thus deferred

alone was a life he never shares
alone one never sees who cares
alone love lives in shadowy fears
alone one never dreams nor dares

to reach out to their greater “me”
to reach and be all they can be
without a touch we’ll never see
how loving another sets one free

alone the quiet anguish inside
the flower of life blossoms denied
no tears to wipe, they come forth dried
no color nor music as we achingly abide

many of us are alone within
our inclinations we condemn again
our dismal voices are our best friend
move 1 Degree and thus amend

or we will . . .

live alone
die alone
laugh alone
cry alone

please . . . come out and play . . . .



(c) 2010 : William S. Peters, Sr.

No comments:

Post a Comment