Laughing Alone.

A lonely man who finds shame in living alone, and laughing to himself.

Laughing Alone.

The silence wraps him like a shroud,
His thoughts like thunder—never loud.
A chair that creaks, a floor that groans,
Four walls that mock this house of bones.

He sits alone where shadows play,
They jest and taunt, then slip away.
He holds it in, won’t make a sound—
To laugh aloud is not allowed.

At morning's light, he plans his day,
Then walks to work along the bay.
A ship is docked, its cargo wide,
His muscles burn, his pain he hides.

At dusk, he eats, then drinks to sleep,
A whiskey burn, a silence deep.
The dark arrives; he lights the screen,
Where laughter lives in scripted scene.

A comic trips, then grins and falls—
He laughs, then waits for silence's call.
It rings too loud—its echo spins
Off walls that speak of hidden sins.

That burst of joy, so out of place,
Now strikes him like a slap to the face.
For joy is foreign, sharp, obscene,
When shared with only ghost and screen.

His mouth still curls, his heart still groans—
A man condemned to laugh alone.