A Recluse’s Poem

A Recluse’s Poem

How alone I fine this dark dreary room

And yet in this clutter I discover comfort

It hides me amongst these themes of doom and gloom

And spares the call,the search of support,I can abort

It’s not of intelligence, lack of knowledge I assure

Popularity ,recognition to be reckoned with perhaps truly feared

For this recluse, a barrier, place obscure

To observe from, but never  recognized when mirrored

I shout out to be heard so brave and bold

To a screen , a wall,a keyboard or book

Do you really want my story told

As the recluse I am, I will not look

A recluse does not shed a tear, why waist the emotion

I value the silence ,to be left alone

For I must question the intention,the devotion

the need to eliminate any adventures to be sown

I don’t imagine the intention to be a recluse was sought

Perhaps it took years ,and months and days

To rejoin the world , to relish the return of battles once fought

And to let go ,and regain faith in others and their ways

Pain, distrust even a dislike surrounds the recluse’s soul

Fearing the displeasure, commotion that comes with life

Filled with ambiguous notions of what’s is the role

And if possible put away this recluse’s strife

And burry it deep in a hole

Park (c) 2012


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