why do
i
feel so alone?—
even when surrounded
and life feels crowded—
alone,
picked thin,
dried up like
brittle bone,
alone;
wandering,
though i’ve got a home,
alone.
nowhere to rest
my head—
though i have a bed,
alone.
people will say
i am wrong—
suck it up
and be strong—
they’ll silence this
sad song.
alone.
then they’ll move on,
leaving me
alone.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, September 23, 2026.
Tittu
+++
Coming next Macabre Monday:
DEVILISHLY DREADFUL
Saint Sorebones
on September 28, 2026
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: September 23rd, 2026 08:26
- Comment from author about the poem: Part of The Mind’s Maze collection.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: arqios
- In collections: The Mind's Maze.
Offline)
Comments2
Perhaps that's one of the reasons that poetry has remained, it is myself outside of myself and very companionable. A fave!🙏🏻🕊️
We are indeed all of us alone even when in a crowd of friends. For none can think our thoughts or feel our feelings. Prisoners sentenced to solitary confinement in cell of flesh and bone. Well written my friend.
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