Company

[burntiger]

I wrote a poem because I felt really sad, sitting in a train station alone. I sat there with large headphones, the best kind, covering my ears, and pouring chilled music into my soul that stirred tears in my eyes. I stumbled for a pen and hoped that I could capture something of this sorrow that sailed across my heart. Its like I wanted to savor the taste of it. And it tasted like a sweet nectar I am very familiar with. Today I wanted to be alone, and I subtly disengaged most conversation directed my way because of such. I am a master at that, and people don't take offense. I just have a way with words, with people. Its nice... and lonely... I like people, but I feel alone as lot. Like a rose in vase... so vain. I suppose I like company... I don't know. here is my poem.

-Remintion of postcognition(/or Hindsight)-

Sing the song of sorrow
Running on a dry pen
and apprehension.
Actualize...
Actually, we are
alone, again.
Catatonic with ceedees
and expression,
with too big head phones
and too/two big hearts.
Take two handfuls/(hugs)
of hope for your journey
home, -your- search
for serenity
love and truth.
And hope;
for a better day
far out lasting
today's used blue tears
those moist mirrors
that reflect a tender tempest
of love
within.