On the side bench, I linger alone,
Gazing at faces, distance my zone.
Under a dark cloud, I silently crumble,
While others bask in joy, in a world of warmth and mumble.
Divided by space, the chill grows colder,
Loneliness wraps me, my heart getting older.
What steps must I take to join the other side?
Escape this bench where emptiness abides.
A bystander am I, lost in the fray,
Wanting a role, a part in the play.
This life is mine, yet never truly mine,
In a world where I stand, but never fully roam.
No one to claim, no one to be mine,
Seconds took them, leaving me in decline.
Against the cold wind, I sit alone,
Staring at warmth, a smile not my own.
We share a world, but different it seems,
Blindness I wish, to escape from love's dreams.
Numbness, I seek, to erase the pain,
Acceptance, elusive, like a distant, fleeting train.
Jealousy devours my love-starved soul,
A chewed-up gum, broken, not whole.
No need for warmth, for I know it's not mine,
A blanket, a plea, to survive on this cold bench of time.
Living turned to survival, a harsh twist of fate,
Left at this bench, alone with my weight.
Wishing for blindness, wishing for numb,
A soul lost, in the echoes of pain's hum.
Not asking for love, or a shared embrace,
Just a blanket on this bench, my only space.
Living turned to survival, a soul left to clench,
Abandoned at this bench, I sit to quench.
Wishing to lose my soul, even to the unknown,
To escape the suffering, to never be alone.
A plea for a blanket, to spend the night,
Alive on this bench, in the dimming light.
YOU ARE READING
Flower
PoetryFlower is a collection of introspective poems, a journey through the delicate petals of emotions. Each verse unfurls the beauty and pain of existence, like a fragile bloom in solitude.
