Solitude Poem by Mark Boyle
Solitude
Chattering voices all around.
Laughs of joke, of joy abound.
A single form, sits alone.
His thoughts as dark as the
feathered wing, crow.
The many the more,
the more he's alone.
A chill of good will
cuts to his bone.
Loneliness is his
only companion.
No man can care
of this mortals abandon.
Another day for him,
has come and gone.
The laughter and voices
remain absent and worn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 12:50:19 PM # 1.0.0.1119
you describe solitude very well, but why he is lonely is not clear to me...