Solitude
My words are in
verses;
My inscriptions are
in sentences;
All are a shout
against walls;
It just bounces
back;
Yet I wait for the
sun’s face;
I am in the
half-dark
loneliness.
Solitude is the same
everywhere,
the pale face of the
winter-sun
behind the mist
curtain
Strong bricks of an
old prison that
doesn’t
Permit any flora or
birthdays.
Solitude is a dumb
hag,
Wrinkly orphan.
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
Copyright © Williamsji Maveli | Year Posted 2014
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