A Comfort In Solitude Poem by Josh Brabender

awake I sit, a ring I hear.
alone again until they wake.
until a real ring will hit my ear.
not the one in my head, but one a clock will make.
which makes them rise and voice bound
Arise I won't, in my room I’ll hear the sound
That their real voices make, until fake ones come around
Is it odd to prefer, though, the ones not made by man?
to like the ones only I hear since the day this began.
are you normal when what you hear is heard by only you?
or when it comes to real and fake, fake's best between the two.
are you crazy if the voice you hear you know is unreal.
but all the while keep composure and manage to conceal.
I bet there's others just like me who hear a second voice,
and when the real gets to rough, they head straight for that choice.