This Time Alone


In my room alone
I talk to myself
So the walls do not melt
in a vast void.
Life has struck a chord
and every note
is a feeling I have felt.
In my room alone
I write stories on the walls
about endless halls.
Life’s endless choices
and the pages of remorses
that I flipped through
while reading of happenings.
Things are wrapping up
into a present.
I could look pass the past
if I didn’t have such resentment.
So I sit in my room.
Forget the death and gloom
that revolves around it all.
Call it meditation
or isolation
it’s all probably the same.
Pacing through the day.
Racing through May
I would stop to smell flowers
if this outside
didn’t feel like a play.
All the hours
that we gave away
would be better spent alone.
Alone.
Alone.
Always on my own.
Tell me
the beauty of this world
when there’s a room
for me alone
to keep away from it all.
Alone.
Alone.
Always on my own.
Convince me of this world outside
when I was happiest
in a room of my own.
Alone.
Alone.
Always on my own.
Tell of life’s beauty
when outside
there is no beauty
that I have not known.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s