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GRATITUDE IN SOLITUDE
Like an old lampstand in a corner I sit in solitude, I hold up my lamp With untiring strength.
For a long time I hold my light in oblivion, In my little corner I collect dust and cobwebs.
As I sit in my obscurity. I watch everything in the room get moved, changed and cleaned but I stay the same "untouched".
So I realise Limbo is my home. Lonely as it maybe I like it here. It's safe and unmolested. But most importantly my light never goes off.
Even though i lay in secrecy during the day. It is at night when I get my luminance. At night when all the other brighter lights go off I hold mine high. At night I write poems, even though secluded but still at Peace.
As I sit behind my imaginary purdah I realise it's where I'm supposed to be. Lonely but still of the essence, so thankful I remain.
Who knew that I'd find "gratitude in solitude"
© Thomas Trosky ™
For a long time I hold my light in oblivion, In my little corner I collect dust and cobwebs.
As I sit in my obscurity. I watch everything in the room get moved, changed and cleaned but I stay the same "untouched".
So I realise Limbo is my home. Lonely as it maybe I like it here. It's safe and unmolested. But most importantly my light never goes off.
Even though i lay in secrecy during the day. It is at night when I get my luminance. At night when all the other brighter lights go off I hold mine high. At night I write poems, even though secluded but still at Peace.
As I sit behind my imaginary purdah I realise it's where I'm supposed to be. Lonely but still of the essence, so thankful I remain.
Who knew that I'd find "gratitude in solitude"
© Thomas Trosky ™
