08-10-2009, 12:58 PM
Solitude
The guitar remains ever so quiet,
Books gather dust on the shelf,
Food rotting in my fridge,
As I ponder the nature of self.
Want Ads cry out ‘Won't you join us?’,
And share in a thrill or two,
Describing untenable positions,
And things I never learned how to do.
To live or to die I don't know which,
Not as sure as Dane Hamlet of old,
But one thing I feel in my marrow,
My spirit's grown incredibly cold.
Always thinking of beginnings & Endings,
And the path that I've traveled in pain,
Searching for some basic reason,
Why I must ever try ever again.
The guitar remains ever so quiet,
Books gather dust on the shelf,
Food rotting in my fridge,
As I ponder the nature of self.
Want Ads cry out ‘Won't you join us?’,
And share in a thrill or two,
Describing untenable positions,
And things I never learned how to do.
To live or to die I don't know which,
Not as sure as Dane Hamlet of old,
But one thing I feel in my marrow,
My spirit's grown incredibly cold.
Always thinking of beginnings & Endings,
And the path that I've traveled in pain,
Searching for some basic reason,
Why I must ever try ever again.