DESPAIR, COLD HEART, SOLITUDE
I Started slow, future looked auspicious,
Had read some philosophy, that of Confucius,
Read others too. Gave me wit, more acumen,
As I set my feet out, to go interact with men,
I carried all the optimism required.
To be a mentor, an idol, I had aspired,
But life came at me in a different way, and crashed my being.
All I harbor now is despair, this as I review my fleeing.
Holding still, jaded mind, about to give up,
All I think of is taking a walk, or a quick nap,
Mid way, as I looked for the damned buck,
I brooded over my existence. I should probably go back.
Back I went, and found the mess I had left.
Nothing to smile about here. This could be a test.
His butt-ugly body was composed of hatred, bile a little blood and skin,
He had no one around, no buddy, no pet, no neighbor nor kin,
Like garbage, his odious breath stank,
He was identified by his name, Frank.
The guy snatched goodies from children,
Also mocked those who were bed-ridden.
He had a super small heart, which like politicians, only fit his selfish interests,
Lived in loneliness, isolated like an oasis in a desert, with no wife to call dearest,
Acted like he was possessed by a demon,
Daily consumed a slice of ginger and lemon,
Perhaps his reason for being bitter,
Never tried to make society better,
Always whined like a loud mouthed idle woman,
We called him “Cold Heart”,
For all he did was hurt.
No, I’m not from a different species, I just love it this way,
When solo, my mind is always clear like the sky on a sunny day.
Let me vaguely narrate to you all how, as I try to knit.
Fate. She chose this for me, and I gratefully embraced it.
I make my best decisions in solitude.
Soliloquies and monologues are now typical with self,
More solitary equals more bliss; my mantra.