As I walk through life alone,
I search for its meaning.
I can barely remember my past,
It’s a blur of joy and happiness.
They say that if I ask,
I will receive,
And if I knock,
The door will be opened.
But I ask and ask,
And nothing happens.
I’ve tried to knock,
Yet, I can see no passage of life.
I feel stranded and all alone.
Every moment I grow weaker,
And every day I seem to be drained,
Drained completely of the once joyful life I had.
I feel trapped and rejected.
I’m like a caged animal,
I’m always trying to break free;
And I’m never successful.
Freedom, freedom is my only hope.
It’s the dream that will break the nightmare.
It is the only way out;
Out of this lonely, dark pit.
Maybe I need help,
Help to save me from myself.
Maybe I should fight harder,
Or maybe I should just quit.
I don’t know, I just don’t know.
I don’t know whether life is worth living,
Or whether I can survive life.
Only fate will tell.
The struggle within myself,
It has lasted a long while,
Too long perhaps.
But it’s much too late, much too late, indeed.
Someday I will find a way out…
I hope…
I hope I will find my personal freedom, for if I don’t
I will perish in my personal hell.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved. Written circa 1994.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: August 21st, 2025 07:30
- Comment from author about the poem: For Throwback Thursday. This one reaches back to my teenage years — 14 or 15 at the time. Alone was born out of the raw ache of isolation and the searching questions I carried even then. I share it now, not because I linger there still, but because it was part of my shaping. Sometimes our younger selves speak truths we still need to honor.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
- Users favorite of this poem: Salvia.S 🌹, Cheeky Missy, Teddy.15, Mutley Ravishes, NinjaGirl, GenXer Shamrocker ☘️
Offline)
Comments9
I can take the first few lines literally for none of us remember our beginning. My first memories come around 18 months to two years of age with snapshot like pictures in my mind before that all is black. This live is a trap in a way and the only freedom comes in death and I haven't reached that yet. A most lovely write my firend.
You nailed it, Soren. Life itself can feel like that trap you named…and yes, freedom’s promise keeps us moving toward what’s beyond. Always grateful for your thoughtful lens on my words, my friend. 🌑🙏🕯️💜
You are most welcome
This is so powerful and heartfelt. It captures deep emotions of loneliness, struggle, and the longing for freedom in such a raw and honest way. Truly relatable! Absolutely love it !!!! Very nicely expressed, dearest Tittu ❤️🌹
Exactly, Salvia…you caught the thread of freedom at the center of this old haunt (so-to-speak). Even in the loneliness, that dream was still alive. Thank you, dearest soul sister. 🌑🙏🕯️💜
The sheer beauty of poetry like this particular piece is how easily it resonates with humanity, the cry of countless voiced as if to beg an answer. What might be too perfect is the answer from God, the Scriptures. Very beautifully rendered with excellent imagery and a heartbreaking poignancy. Thank you so very much for sharing.
Exactly, Missy…you naming it as “the cry of countless” really struck me. It is that cry. Honored that the imagery carried through and delivered, dear friend. 🌑🙏🕯️💜
Powerful writing.
Thank you Thomas! Glad it delivered. 🌑🙏🕯️💜
Where do I begin? Darling Tristan we have lived the same life my friend, I have fought all my life for love, I am 50 years old and this past month I realised it's not me it's them, my blood family who have no values for love for their blood it took me 50 years to understand. I'm not even sad because I have built a wonderful life in Italy surrounded by love I myself chose. Kudos you brought me so much emotion, going back home a month ago I was suddenly 15 again and baffled as to why I have to fight my own people for their love. Not anymore. 🌹
Dearest, sweet Teddy, I feel this, friend and poet. That baffling fight for love from those who should give it freely…I know it well and still very much struggle with it, as I am sure some of my work indicates. But yes, choosing love beyond them is where real freedom begins. So grateful for your presence. 🌑🙏🕯️💜 And, we're now not alone in this...not that we ever were. But it certainly helps to know others who've walked similar paths, faced similar demons. Synchronicity in the best possible way, imho. You have truly blessed me with your words, my dear friend. 🌹
As have you blessed mine. 🌹 ❤️
Those teenage years. A psychological torture chamber for some of us. May I never have to go through that again in all eternity. Great write, Tristan!
Totally, you nailed it…those years were their own chamber, indeed. Glad we survived them, and grateful for your words here, my friend. 🌑🙏🕯️💜
In the still between heartbeats
A spark still glows unseen
Even the deepest night
Holds the shape of dawn
I appreciate this so much, Arqios…your lines feel like an answering poetic echo to the longing here. Much appreciated, my friend. 🌑🙏🕯️💜
This is the exciting part of poetry where poems sing to each other. 🕊️🙏
Totally!!! 💯
Standing up for little you, always a good thing
Totally! Thank you my friend!!!
And you say I’m the blessing? This can help so many young lives who struggle with aloneness and isolation today. Such a relatable write. It touches the depth of those who are too ashamed to speak. Or can not find their voice. You my friend are too a blessing! 🙏
My dear friend…your words moved me deeply. To think that what I wrote as a teenager in pain could now help someone else means more than I can say. Thank you for calling that out and for naming me a blessing. 🌑🙏🕯️💜
Pain is life’s greatest teacher. What one experienced and lived through can help even one life.
💯 No greater teacher than pain. I know that to be true fore sure.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.