Being Alone
The kettle sings to an empty room
Chairs don’t get used, there’s too much gloom
The phone stays still, the door stays closed
And silence settles, all around my home.
I make two cups, then pour one down
Old habits cling in this too quiet home.
The telly on it speaks, but not to me
Just noise and faces I barely see
I talk out loud to no one there
I say goodnight to empty air
The post comes late, then not at all
No footsteps echo down the hall
I smile at folks who look right through
Like I’m a ghost they never knew
I wave, they nod, then walk away
Another heavy, wordless day
But still I rise, still sweep the floor
Still check the lock on every door
Still set a place I never use
And wear my best, though what’s the use.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (4)
Sometimes people can live with others or be surrounded by others yet feel and be alone inside
so many truisms in this poem, Marie I especially liked the last line: "And wear my best, though what’s the use." So many times I have felt that way, and so good clothes sit in the wardrobe because, well, what's the use. I need to do better.
We are really never alone for the Lord is always with us when need him or some would say her. We are made in his image male and female. I am alone most of the time, but I have my books and my projects to keep me company. Good job.
Fascinating poem about ''Being Alone'' and well written. Good luck.