The Solitary Life

From the third floor he gazed out of the window
On this grey and thoughtful day
 
In his right hand he held a half- drunk coffee.
His thoughts began to stray.
 
He’d spent too much time
Looking out on the World
 
From one mind’s perspective
And through one pair of eyes-
 
Seeing the world through one window only:
Were his beliefs half- truths and lies?
 
His life had diverged so far from that of his friends
Who over time had followed their own paths
 
They were married; he was single and lived alone
And had chosen to follow his own craft.
 
Alone now, in his third floor flat
Watching people going about their different lives
 
Pondering on why his own had taken such a path
Unsure of what was true or real or right.
 
MDC