What do I have to do –
to make myself worth truly loving?
It's a fight I never win –
what is it that I am not doing?
Is my patience not enough? –
(do I) not give you enough chances?
For I offer both endlessly –
but still nothing enhances.
The lies, the hurt, the cheating –
it never seems to end.
Why do the things that hurt me? –
(I thought) that you were my best friend…
But friends don't take advantage –
not when they truly value them.
So why say that you love me –
Just to use me in the end?
ISOLATED ENCHANTMENT-:-
simply
expressed
pleasure
variously
voiced
speak with GENTLER ACCENTS
reveal
structured
attractive
varied
variety
of RELATIVE RARITY
suggesting
debated
identity
colouring
character
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date Written: 06/01/2026
Title of poem answering: Where Without Whom
Isolation offers
Opportunities
Separation helps form questions
Needing answers
Search for the answers
Learn who you are
Remember where you've been
Then~~answers
Will flow
Into a poem
Aura
Strangers are intimidated or drawn to
People stare longer than usual
Silence makes them nervous
The ability to shift energy in the whole room
They will always remember you
Like a stain in a good manner
Don't chase attention
Jealousy follows you
Even from strangers unknown
They copy your ideas and follow your life style
Maybe I’m a magnet to some
A man with a very few words
Isolated and alone
Just coffee and pomes
Don’t ask for much
Just a simple road
Don’t follow the world
Write your own journey
Silent thoughts through poetry
Isolated Poem
Roman numerals
Immortal eternal
Growing old in years
Just writing an Isolated Poem
You can’t cheat death
Work hard until the end
Travel far
Time waits for no one
Chasing after dreams
The clock is ticking
Where does all the time go?
Just being trivial
You can’t live for ever in a clay shell
Dust we shall return
Flowers to ashes
Our breath is silenced
Pictures fade
Narrow roads are ending
A smile towards Heaven
Soul searching returneth
is there not a note or chord or rhyme
i haven't explored or given time,
or some three letter tune, with notes so true
it perfectly explains my state of mind?
its hard finding new rhymes with lonely,
or to make arguments i've been betrayed,
those long nights still haunt me
and time and shame they cost me
behind an unlocked door barricade,
i wish i was a lot kinder,
to the one i had left on the floor,
instead of torturing myself with more questions
about if anyone really does care,
i should have packed up my rags,
put my time in a bag
and paid for a one-way bus fare,
to get me the hell out of there,
i'm sorry for leaving you abandoned,
and yelling at you to believe,
you must suck it all up,
put your pride in a cup,
and swallow your hollow disgrace,
the taste was always sour,
the smile soon would fade,
and back again you'd find yourself
behind another barricade,
i feel stuck
tied to a chair
forced to sit in the center of a busy crowd
unable to move
just tapped watching everyone pass by
doing everything they should be
staying on the perfect path
the rope that binds me is rough
it's the harsh reminder that i'm useless
sitting in a chair in the middle of a crowd
everyone passing by
having a purpose
and then there's me
i'm the only person in the chair for a reason
i have no purpose
nothing going for me
the chair's cold, hard seat reminds me
this is exactly what i deserve
no matter how hard i try
i'm still stuck in the chair
but the thing is
the rope that binds my wrists
isn't tied to the chair
i'm free to leave whenever i want
btu i choose to stay
worrying about everyone else around me
when i could be free to join them
if i could only take a moment
to look down at the rope instead of them
Do you now feel at ease?
When it's all said and done
When you've seen and loved
Saw the darkest side of life
And even questioned the sands of time
When you looked up in the sky
And acknowledged the beauty of the sun
Seen storms imbibe people and trees
How did you feel?
When you sometimes had friends
But sometimes thought you didn't care
How much hurt or happiness did it bring?
Did you have those nights where you could not sleep?
When you said you were fine but you were not
You wanted to vent but kept it short
When you saw the worst but kept going
Did you ever feel like quitting?
You were not wrong to feel wounded
You weren't wrong to keep your heart wooden
I want you to ask yourself this,
"Do I now feel at ease?"
This little life of mine
I think I’m not inclined
To live the life I want
Don’t think I have the time
To figure out the wrongs
To Fix them from the right
But I’ll put up a fight,
I will put up a fight
Why do they not care
Why do they not hear me
I feel I see them here
It’s like they know I can’t breathe
Its like trying to scream air
To people that aren’t there
Why do they not care
Why do they not see me here.
-Rosie Louise Hill
each poet dreams of a secret retreat, a refuge, isolated
a solitary place in which to write, to enfold oneself
in bliss and peace, perhaps where waves crash
on rocks, or a garden, or a tranquil cemetery
yes, that is where I find my poetic voice
amongst the mossy cemetery stones
if your partner has to be mollified and pacified
If he pouts and makes fun of you unless you out-guess him
If being around him makes you feel like you are tiptoeing around glass
If you spend your days trying to outguess his angry moods
If you have been isolated from your family and friends
If everything you do or say has to be careful and deliberate
in order to not receive his wrath, and his disdain
know that you can do better.
And you should.
On clean clear cerulean sky,
fluffy cotton clouds to fly
Small isolated island in sea,
holding grass and few trees.
Calm quiet ambient in glee.
each sleight is the haunt
of some evicted ghost.
grieving me a life of greater pain;
I see pieces of people passing,
drifting into the footsteps
of another's future.
I feel the rough sandpaper surface
of the concrete bridge
as I prepare to jump.
For a moment my heart slumps.
It takes the smallest of memories
to interrupt a courage.
I thought each flower finer
in a different way,
if there’s a word for that,
I cannot say.
Far more acute
than any thing precise,
far more astute
than scholarly advice.
Is there a right kind of poetry?
In a room far away
behind a desk in an office,
someone else decides.
My home is
where my family is,
my family of one.
Others taint the
peace of mind,
you are not welcomed.
She lived in a castle, isolated,
Time flew slow, gruelling and full of hatred,
The crown lay broken on the floor,
Shattered, scattered, one piece no more.
Royal duties thrown away, Pirates life, plundering, stealing,
But not knowing the tight, suppressed feeling,
Of hatred to themselves,
Sadness, madness hidden on the shelves.
As they drown there worries in the sea,
Emotions revealed after tremendous tragedies,
Ship sunk at sea, forgotten princess lost again,
Unstable, betrayal, no strong knight to save them.
They drown in their guilt,
Mistakes from their pasts rebuilt,
No army to pull her out of the water,
Unknown memories sown; their love slaughtered.
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