Loneliness.
To be, or not to be, that is the question.
Is it a choice, or do we suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune.
We take arms against a sea of troubles, but it don't end there.
To die, to sleep, perchance to dream.
Aint no rub, for in that sleep only nightmares around the corner.
Only when we have shuffled off this mortal coil will freedom awake.
No time to pause for those who would bear the whips and scorn of time.
To grunt and sweat under a weary life, we feel those whips, we bear the scars.
But that the dread of something after death.
A sweet release from that we know.
How to fly from this loneliness?
That is the question.
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Author:
Hemingway (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 11th, 2023 13:40
- Comment from author about the poem: Inspired/ lifted of course from the genius William Shakespeare "Hamlet"
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 25
Offline)
Comments1
Ohh, I'll pop over and keep ya company then. See ya in 5 minutes! 'That's jolly sporting of ya, old chap', you may reply. lol.
Yet some get 'mystical' and want solitude at times. They say it's not the same as loneliness.
Ha ha yep you will have to make it 10 just on way out to get food!
and yes solitude sometimes suits, definitely not the same as loneliness in my mind 🙂
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