STRANGE COMFORT
There is strange comfort
In this lack of love
That rises
With the air below
And coats meĀ
With
Indifference
And I have come to like it
Well enough
These lazy daysĀ
Of nothingness
To want not
To need not
And have nothingĀ
To give
To be excused
From expectation
And all effort
And duration
A release of sorts
Some would say
To selfishly own
All of my days
Spending timeĀ
Alone
My way
In idle reflection
And I missĀ
Nothing
There is nothing
ToĀ miss
Save the deceit
Of the friendship
Or loves
Bitter kiss
Ā
And it is better now
For the lack of it all
Tis my own hand I trust
To help me up whenĀ I fall
And there is strangeĀ comfort
In that.
Marion Price (2020)
Ā
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Comments
A very honest endearing poem my friend xxx
Thanks Jill ?
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Sometimes the greatest peace is to be found within ourselves Marion..Lovely write my friend! Lodigiana x
Thankyou Lodigiana...appreciated ?
Thankyou Lodigiana, appreciated always ?
āSave the deceit
Of the friendship
Or loves bitter kissā
Takes years and experience to find comfort inĀ
the quiet solitude of self. Very well expressed.
Ā
Yes there is great peace in quiet reflective moments but also in the joy of being surrounded by family and friends....happiness is in knowing and appreciating the different kinds of joy I think...thankyou ?