The afternoon clouds flew by until it was dusk
Starlings by the thousands darkened the heaven
The air is still and heavy and smelled of musk
The rising crescent belied it was about to rain...
He stands in the sidewalk alone, deep in thought
In the midst of the lifeless city he calls home
He searches for a friendly face, all for naught
In this landscape of asphalt, steel and stone.
The couch in the living room awaits his arrival
The dented pillow’s still there but not as warm
The remote is handy, the guide ready for perusal
Alas, isolation and solitude has become the norm!
So he tarries unsure of where to go, what to do
Must he go to that empty room before nightfall?
But he needs company to see the evening through
A lover, friend, stranger, just about anyone at all...
A kiss, a hug, a kind word, a pat on the back
Simple human pleasures he desires right now
The day’s events caused his heart to ache
Fellowship he seeks, but he knows not how!
He’s lived alone the better part of twenty years
Taking pride in never having shared an emotion
But grief unshared or unexpressed are like spears
That pierce his heart; his spirit thus broken!
A cold heart, a hardened soul,
Are the wages of isolation
And all mortal passion
Is but the bitterest poison...
Yet he aches to be human,
Craving the gentle touch
And hoping someone feels
The same way just as much...
08-08-2014
© Vic A Evora
Robert L. Martin
9aI look forward to isolation for a while. If I could have isolation sometimes and fellowship sometimes, I would be contented. I need a few hours a day to be alone with my thoughts, though. I liked your poem very much
Vic Evora
9aThank you...
Benjamin G. Sangalang
9aI would buy him a cup of coffee and have a little chat, if that person was real. Moving, beautiful poem.
Vic Evora
9aThank you Ben
Charlotte B. Williams
9aI agree everyone needs someone . I laughed at the couch part because mine is dented in the place where I sit all the time. This was interesting. (smile)
Vic Evora
9aThank you Charlotte. A poem I wrote two years ago; my spot in the sofa is still dented as well. BTW I just posted a poem called The Bay. Appreciate if you could comment. Thanks