Not Impressed By My Own Progress Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Could I afford 'not' to be happy?
After experiencing doses of it?
Could I spend my life pretending,
I am without a wanting for tenderness?
With a braving through the rest of my life,
Lieing to myself with these lies commited?
I think not!
I've already donated enough time to being alone.

And a loneliness condoned only works publicly.
When expresssions of being 'thrilled' about my life...
Being single, free and without unnecessary agitation,
Has become easy to sell.
Especially to those miserable in their relationships.
But when sitting home alone,
And dwelling upon a companionship I wish to share?
I am not impressed by my own progress in this area...period!