Solitude

Solitude,

It’s a funny thing.

But no laughter.

Oh to be alone!

But oh, to be alone.

No thoughts but my own,

No distractions but my own – forced distractions.

Left to the banality of whether to drink the cup from the left or Whether to have it now,

Or maybe later, yes, that would be better…

Later.

You hear the sounds that are lost in busy houses full of life and People talking arguing romancing,

Ruminating aloud and to each other across the table

My table I keep untidy – to show that someone is here.

Me

I am here and the table shows it.

Shall I?

Shall I?

And the thought soaks against the still wall falls back into my throat and around the brain again

Oh to be alone.

 

 

 

 

 

(c) S Dyer 2011

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About Stuart Dyer

Stuart Dyer, Christian Writer and Musician living in West Sussex, England. Works in the hope of producing the worthy novel or solo; giggles at Oliver Hardy, Peter Sellers and Spike Jones; admires Hudson Taylor, Dickens, Salinger, Bill Bailey and Neil Peart; listens from Wagner to Miles with lots of stops in between; dances to motown and aims to achieve balance in all things.
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One Response to Solitude

  1. Pingback: To Be There | rattledrum

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