LONELINESS

LONELINESS


I have a large beautiful house,
But I don’t have a home.
It has a garden and big rooms
In which I live alone.

When I get up in the morning,
I make a cup of tea;
But I have no one to share it,
And that is a pity.

As I go out onto the door,
I put a big grey lock.
When I come back in the evening,
It does at me so mock,

As if asking me with a sigh,
Why I have none in wait,
Who might taunt me why I have been,
In returning, so late.

Those days are gone when someone did
Open the door for me,
Who kissed me and gave me a cup
Of tea, hot and steamy.

The evenings and the nights were spent
In love or bitter fight;
But never did I have to face
This loneliness, a blight.


* Written in 8-6-8-6 format


M C Gupta
21 September 2004