Lonely
Lonely people need me.
They grin at my presence and rejoice when they hear my name.
I bring them company in the best of ways,
I lend out my ears for days to let them relieve the pressure,
weighing heavy upon their chest.
Lonely people love me because i give the best advice,
I come when called,
ask no questions,
tell no lies.
They need to hear what they're worth,
so i say unto them there is no price bountiful enough for their lives.
Accompanied people are jealous of my ways,
seeing as I have the power of speech and the presence of the lonely.
Yet I belong to neither side.
I call and call but no one comes,
i ask and do not receive,
nobody lends my soul the ears of compassion or friendship.
I am virtually surrounded by people,
yet when I fall, a hand I am not offered.
When i scream, a response is not heard.
And when i cry, no shoulder is presented.
I need the lonely people to accompany me on a journey of speech and thought,
for I need the feel of others.
I despise the accompanied,
because they take the companionship they have for granted.
Copyright © Dylan Holt | Year Posted 2012
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