ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel

Poetry From The Soul Of Poets And Rhymers

Updated on September 22, 2014

Alone. A poem.

Alone is what I am. It's not a state of mind or a place. it's me. It is I. It is who I am. the walls know me and they sit and sympathize. They want to help but they can't. they cn't reach out. Even if walls could console, they would be muted against alone. No one can penetrate it. Alone goes to places far away. Alone can travel ahead into its own intelligence and fits in nowhere in reality. What is reality. I hate reality because it is a trap. Things are expected of you that you cannot achieve. How you look matters too much. But alone is comfortable. Alone is the only one who understand. Alone gives me peace and confidence. Who else can I count on except alone?

Alone nurtures me and takes care of me. she gives me strength to go on but when I can't she gives me time to heal. I love her. I don't believe I'll ever stop. I'm the only one who can understand her. I can take the criticalnes tongue of this world. It will not swallow me whole. it tries to bring me down all the way. At times, I sink myself. Do I sink myself out of self hate? No. I don't hate myself. I hate the pain. When I go down there's sometimes someone to try to push me all the way down. I don't allow it. Alone doesn't allow it. Alone will rescue me and give me a reason to emerge and to swim.

Bridget Martrin

1999 Copyright

Comments

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No comments yet.

    Click to Rate This Article