by James J. Dye
(Dubuque, IA USA)
Alone without love;
a drone without truth;
a clone with a smile
on loan and in denial
lies without thinking;
cries without blinking.
My drying eyes deny.
We're all alone.
We're all, alone.
Find your soul at home
all alone. I don't know
a precious stone.
Nothing's known, alone.
I've never been; never seen.
All is forgotten alone.
And in sleeping sorrow
I dream.
But nothing is shown.
We're all alone.
We're all, alone,
at sea without stars;
not free, in the dark.
Forever won't be
together with me.
And I am unknown.
My poem too: Alone.
There is no one home.
There is nothing shone.
My skin is blue and I
have no face, no mouth,
nor eyes.
I'm thrown away,
to moan in a grave;
entombed in a room
alone;
not to be loved
for aimless years;
slowly dying young.
A vacant stone,
is all alone.
My gravestone:
"He was alone."
My bones groan
crumbling alone.
I'm windblown
rolling along.
We're all alone.
We're all, alone.
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