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.
Starward
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!
Starward
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.