Must We
Must we be lonely,
to write the loneliness of life?
Along with our deeds
for others to read.
Must we isolate,
to convey isolation?
That a poets life can be,
locking a door with no key.
Must we get drunk,
on our broken hopes?
Hiding private dreams,
while splitting at the seams.
Must we be ill,
to have thoughts and words,
swirling in and out our heads,
just writing to loosen the thread?
Must we be misunderstood,
never letting anyone inside?
To glimpse our soul through eyes,
waiting for clarity the day we die.
Copyright © Andrea Travis | Year Posted 2013
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