third wheel — stanza form
That proverbial "third wheel" syndrome,
a companion in solitude,
lodges in the poet's heart,
a feeling that clings like ivy
on a stone wall,
never quite shaken off.
In crowded spaces, they feel distant,
like an observer through a fogged glass,
detached from love's tender embrace,
while longing stirs
like autumn leaves in the wind.
The poet walks through bustling streets,
the noise of conversations blending
into a distant wash of sound,
the scent of blooming flowers
mixed with city smoke,
creating a sensory tapestry
that enhances their isolation.
With each verse penned,
they mark the ache,
attempting to erase their alienation,
finding solace in ink,
crafting lines that intertwine
with their solitude,
transforming isolation into art.
But in the quiet of the night,
a realisation dawns, unexpected:
solitude, once a shadow,
becomes a sanctuary.
In the stillness, strength emerges,
an epiphany:
the poet finds contentment
in their own company,
discovering unique paths
for this third wheel to follow.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 13th, 2026 05:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments8
As if talking with a ghost. There is a detached view as if watching a movie where reality is depersonalized and distanced through ink on a page. That wall of separation a bastion and castle wall or as stated in the poem itself a sanctuary from life's all too powerful and painful armies of assailants. Nicely written Cryptic once again a fave my friend
A safe place, thanks dear Soren 🙏🏻🕊️
My pleasure
A most appealing write my friend, much enjoyed
Thank you so much friend 🙏🏻🕊️
most welcome
There’s a damn satisfying arc here, because what begins as the ache of being the unwanted third wheel gradually transforms into a recognition that solitude can become a place of strength rather than exile. The strongest turn is “solitude, once a shadow, / becomes a sanctuary,” because it gives the poem its emotional release—the poet stops trying to escape being alone and discovers there are still roads worth walking.
Thank you so much, Thomas. So glad the poem is being read as it was put together. Picking up on that turn confirms it. It’s so good when the poem comes across. 🙏🏻🕊️
Always, R
Doh! I will 'get my coat'. I've 'overstayed my welcome'. I'm 'hanging around like a gooseberry'. Enough! says fido to me - 'Just go!' lol. But I say to him 'I can't go; me car needs FOUR wheels; can't get anywhere with 3 wheels. Well, I could with one of those 3-wheeled car thingys, I suppose
Haha! So true, P. You could actually make another poem out of this! 🙏🏻🕊️
I'm P now. You run out of 'O's too? lol.
lol. There’s only so many repeats🤪
I remember someone saying that ' You can't write with a Pram in the Hall'. Meaning you need Peace and Quiet to work . And no baby crying and such. I find it the same.
Good Write again.
And on the rarest of occasions the Pram and its antics become the subject matter of the poem. Life can be so randomly funny. 🤣🙏🏻🕊️
True. 👶
What struck me most here, my friend, is the journey from exclusion to self-possession. The surrounding world emphasizes the loneliness, while writing becomes the means of reclaiming it...turning an unwanted position into a chosen path. Powerful piece. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
What indeed is ours to freely appropriate, reclamation of self. Thanks Tittu 🙏🏻🕊️👍🏻
That third wheel is so important in our lives Rik.
Andy
In that day...
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.