So many curious faces I see.
Inquiring eyes fixed on me.
As if trying hard to guess.
why always I speak so less?
In the office and in bazaar.
They wonder who my friends are?
Every time they spot me alone.
Doubt if I am kind of stone.
With them no ebullience, no zeal.
In their company so lonely I feel.
Whether sitting or on a walk.
Always worldly and shallow talk.
But all who think I am lonely stone.
Let me inform I am never alone.
Loneliness is my best friend.
With him quality time I spend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
......wonderful poem....and I agree being alone means quality time...some people never learn this secret....