This place is always a little lonely
At the weekends...no noise and life;
I like solitude,
But not in places
Where there’s recently been
A lot of people.
Reclusiveness protects you
From nostalgia,
And you can be as nostalgic
In relation to what happened
Half an hour ago
As half a century ago, in fact more so.
I went to the Xmas party.
I danced,
And generally lived it up.
I went to bed sad though.
Discos exacerbate
My sense of solitude.
My capacity for social warmth,
Excessive social dependence,
And romantic zeal,
Can be practically deranging;
It’s no wonder I feel the need
To escape...
Escape from my own
Drastic social emotivity,
And devastating capacity
For loneliness.
I feel trapped here;
There’s no
Outlet for my talents.
In such a state as this,
I could fall in love with anyone.
The night before last,
I went to the ball,
Couples filing out,
I wanted to be half of every one,
But I didn't want to lose…
I’ll get over how I feel now,
And very soon.
Gradually I’ll freeze again,
Even assuming an extra layer of snow.
I have to get out of here.
Remiunds me of my own college
Remiunds me of my own college experience decades ago.
J-Called
Cool...
Good to hear it. Thanks.
Born London, residing London Metropolitan Area.
I suppose the experience is
I suppose the experience is frequently the same anywhere, but you made a poem of it, and a well detailed poem, reflecting the stark reality. Bravo!
J-Called
I did...
...and thank you; it was forged from a letter I wrote from Cambridge, but which I never sent. Carl.
Born London, residing London Metropolitan Area.