Concord

When they see a lone mien with no chum near, They say I may be fraught with a crippling fear; They feel I am just another remorseful creep, Battling guilty pangs many soul-inches deep. Truly feeling external eyes can hardly see The countless faithful mates seated here, Who form the cordial knot of hurting pals, Constant friends twined by self-same tear. Unknown to any passerby's inexperienced ear, Here keep company varied doleful ditties dear. They genuinely treasure and far cherish more Men who firsthand share in the sufferer's woe. They guess I'm a warmth-forsaking introvert now, With no measly thirst for truly affectionate hearts. Little do they understand the solid concept at play, Tested design to wander in solitude's calming arts! Doubtless more faithful companions shall be found, In low caves of loneliness than in a feasting ground.