The Lonely Man
He just goes about each day, his way
The Lonely Man
The lonely man bothers no one,
Keeps to himself each day.
No orders barked, no calls to heed.
He lives in his own way.
They say he’s lonely. Is he, though?
The truth is seldom shown.
He’s always been a private man.
His wife is gone, his kids have grown.
He walks the lanes at early light,
No reason, just a way.
Avoids all chatter, meets no gaze.
Another quiet day.
His curtains stay half-open wide,
Enough to watch the trees.
He listens to the radio
And drinks his tea with ease.
Old photographs collect no dust,
He wipes them every week.
His wedding suit still fits him well,
Though now it smells antique.
The neighbours whisper when they pass,
“A shame, to be alone.”
he just smiles behind the glass,
Content to be unknown.
His world is quiet, firm, and small,
Just how he likes it kept.
He says his prayers at half-past ten,
Then closes both his eyes and sleeps
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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