Changing Seasons

Winter’s arriving,

And a part of me is glad.

Though when one season comes,

The other must depart,

Which usually leaves me feeling sad.

This Summer’s progress though has been but few,

And I know Winter leaves little chance to start anew.

The Summer was filled with sunshine,

But without much rain,

Which made progress a pain,

And since something was lacking,

I hardly made a gain.

So I enter Winter still searching for missing pieces,

But should I hope for what I’m looking for,

In the season when almost everything decreases?

 

 

 

 

 

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Yearning

I’m in need,

Of a little love,

A little attention.

I could really use,

Some comfort,

Some affection.

But I understand,

That few are attracted,

To those,

With many limitations.

When it comes to love,

The destitute rarely receive,

Any satisfaction.

Explore

Now, of you, I know more,

But will it change the way I felt before?

Do our trials now give me a chance, a hope?

Since I know that you too, struggle to cope.

Now that I’ve read a map of your head,

Should I choose caution instead?

You yearn for someone to reach out and take your hand,

But can I ever be that man?

Can you trust me now that I know more?

Since I, in secret, your head did explore.

Feeling wrong

What’s the reason for seeing myself as so bizarre?

Like a monster who treads the earth, wearing some frightful scar.

What prompts me to feel like something so absurd?

Like one so vile, he should not be seen of nor heard.

Could it be the layers of imperfection which cause the shame?

Or are the menacing words of cruel people to blame?

You know that something is wrong, when you don’t feel right.

You know something is wrong, when it’s easier to be out of sight.

I would like to know why it is I feel this weird,

And seemingly struck by misfortune, so poorly engineered.

Am I really as pathetic as the taunter’s words make me feel?

Are any of these feelings even real? 

Fragility

You live, somewhere beyond,

Some place, I can’t get to.

My fortitude, does not correspond,

With the place, in which I’m desperate to find you.

I had convinced myself, rather foolishly,

That we’re both of the same kind.

Hoping that by you, I would be loved exclusively,

But who can love one, with such a delicate mind?

 

 

 

Loneliness II

Loneliness is not just the state of being on your own,

Oh no, it’s far more complicated than that.

It’s the feeling of being left behind,

Of being the least worthy of your kind,

And the feelings of inferiority that run through your mind.

Loneliness is a paradox,

It’s about feeling conspicuous and invisible,

And about feeling relieved and miserable.

Loneliness can empty the void or fill the abyss,

It can leave us content or amiss.

Loneliness is an irony,

It’s about yearning to belong,

And about yearning to run away.

It’s wanting to be left alone,

And hoping they’ll stay.

Loneliness is desperation,

It’s when you start to obsess,

It’s always wanting more,

And never being happy with less.

Loneliness is the shadow that lurks,

Even when there’s people around.

It’s the gloom, the shade that covers the ground.

Loneliness is the want of being found.

It’s pretending you’re not in love,

Even when your sweetheart is around.

It’s shying away,

It’s never looking them in the eye,

It’s the reason for hiding, and not coming out to play,

And feeling restless throughout the day.

Its feeling like you can’t do anything right,

And it’s what keeps you awake at night.

Loneliness is so much more than a situation,

It’s the state of our mind, our fears, our aspirations.

Who can love me?

Who can love me as I am?

Who can love this pale imitation of a man?

Who out there is willing to say:

“As you are, please stay.”?

Who is blind enough to take on the task,

Of rebuilding the shattered pieces of glass,

That once formed the mirror of my content,

But now is just the source of my constant lament?

Who is she, so fair, that would give me a chance?

Where is she, the one, that can my worthiness enhance?