Poem: Solitude – 17/12/20

A little bit of freedom,
a nice hot cup of tea,
or a long black, milk served on the side,
soon to be enjoyed by little old me.

Wandering around and around,
little sights to be appreciated,
to be seen,
things we took for granted
once upon a time,
now appreciative I am,
and I’ll continue to be.

But things are different,
they’re somehow not the same,
I can’t change what’s occurred,
the situation cannot be tamed.

So, I wander,
and I think,
and I tell myself,
don’t reminisce,
because it’ll only cause things
internalised to leap out from within.

There are things that shan’t be
spoken of,
there are things which can be thought of well,
there were times when
happiness was surrounding,
like a bubble, laughter like a potion,
not poison but intoxicating,
it’s now in the past,
the solution diluted into a salty ocean.

I wander the areas where light footprints
were tracked many times,
from favourite stores,
to favourite shops,
joy and widened eyes,

“Look at that!” I’d exclaim,
“Look at this,” I would call,
“and here,” I would point,
my words no longer listened to at all.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Brigitte Tohm on Unsplash


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