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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1463053
Loneliness – a shroud, it calls to me, aloud
In Seclusion:
(Hanging by a Thread)

Loneliness – a shroud.
It calls to me aloud.
Approaching yet so still
within my domicile.
Sadly winning, quickly pinning -
open – volatile.

My mind it soon consumes.
The threat of boredom looms.
My isolated mind
seeks desperately to find
stimulation - aspiration,
for a mastermind.

But thoughts engulf my brain,
driving me insane!
Left with solitude;
a lonely interlude.
Thinking, waiting, cursing, hating,
desperate to elude.

Minutes seem like hours.
Lonesomeness devours.
Eating at my heart;
tearing me apart.
Constant stabbing, always grabbing,
no place to depart.

My pain will only end
when next I see a friend.
A precious time we’ll share,
we’ll talk and laugh and care.
Admiration, adoration;
little can compare.

Until a friend arrives
I’ll keep my lonesome eyes.
My heart will rule my head.
My senses will seem dead.
Wanting, needing, all but pleading –
Hanging by a thread...

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