Barry Conway


Lonely Are The Nights. - Poem by Barry Conway

LONELY ARE THE NIGHTS.

HE FOUND HIMSELF IN THE STREET,
THE COLD AIR STUNG HIS NOSE,
SLEEP HAD ELUDED HIM,
AS IT ALWAYS DID,
SINCE SHE LEFT.

THE STREET LIGHTS,
HIS ONLY SUPPORT,
WALKING INTO THE NIGHT.
THERE WAS SILENCE HERE,
JUST AS IN HIS LONELY ROOM,
BUT IT WAS A DIFFERENT TYPE,
OF SILENCE!
ONE THAT DID NOT SPEAK TO HIM

HE SAW THE SHOPS PASS HIM BY,
ONE BY ONE,
JOINED BY THE OCCASIONAL CAR,
UNINTERESTED,
EVERYTHING A STRANGER TO HIM,
CLOSED TO ALL HIS THOUGHTS.

HE SAT UPON THE METAL BENCH,
IN THE OPEN PRECINCT,
STILL WET WITH THE LAST OF THE RAIN,
LINGERING UPON IT.
HIS HEAD BOWED INTO HIS HANDS,
WISHING TO BE ANYWHERE ELSE,
THAN INSIDE HIMSELF.
HERE, THERE,
IT WAS ALL THE SAME!
ALL DESTINATIONS HAVE PAIN!
YOU CAN NOT STOP YOURSELF,
FROM THINKING,
ONLY BREATHING!

Topic(s) of this poem: despair, loneliness, loss, lost love, night, silence, thoughts


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 17, 2018

Poem Edited: Thursday, May 17, 2018


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