I have no one to talk to,
Except myself,
That makes me terribly depressed,
For I am not my friend,
I know myself too well,
Enemies march home together,
My company is no company,
I try to talk to myself,
Certainly not in public,
For I'd be taken away,
I try to talk to myself,
And I've got nothing to say.
Another day,
The few words that come are Hollow and Hurt,
A dead Rose, as the morning turns,
Can be full of thorns, that burn,
'Happy is he who sometimes learns,
From Solitude, and does not yearn,
For a more complete and sounding future'
Silence is golden,
But may follow the tragic way of the goose,
Who in the past laid the golden eggs.
Silence is Life's Shadow dwindling away,
When there is Nothing more to say,
And really, no good reason to even stay......
A lovely expression of loneliness and silence which is unbearable. I try to talk to myself, And I've got nothing to say. ....... very well written You may read my poem A misery
Talking to oneself is often the better option, because oneself is often the only one who listens anyway! But no, silence isn't always golden, though sometimes it can be welcome.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your fire burns brightly, an amazing warm glow! Let this light shine outward, everywhere you go! Throwing gas on your fire! BW