Sherree Huckleberry | + Follow Poet |
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Aloneliness

It is the middle of the night, alone
		And the darkness is a sad sight…alone
		When your demons you fight alone.
		Yet so it can be in daylight if alone
		While you listen to your heart pound alone.
		You seek rays of hope as you look around…alone.
		Vulnerability is profound alone.
		No, nothing so sinister as the sound of alone.

		What disease have we all contained within? Alone!
		It is as dark as the chiefest of sins. Alone.
		No one knows how or why or its origin…alone
		Nor can we pinpoint where it ends, this alone.
		No one can fix it: no drug, no friend…alone;
		We are meant, by ourselves, to mend it alone.
		By our Creator we are placed here not alone
		Yet we always seem to round that bend: Alone.

		For years, I have struggled and tried and fought alone;
		I’ve read, written, cried and sought to be not alone
		But even in crowds I am caught in the web of alone.
		I’ve learned much from the lessons taught by alone;
		I’ve yet to know what it was that brought me to alone.
		I suppose we each must go deep inside to stop alone.
		If one has spirituality, one is not alone;
		So I’ll be all right because that I’ve got, though I’m alone.

Copyright © Sherree Huckleberry | Year Posted 2007

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