Alone

I could write a thousand poems about being alone,
we could call it abandoned or even disowned,
and although, at first, your heart almost bleeds,
after time you realise your soul has been freed.

I no longer have to ask to change the colour of my walls,
or be by their side when duty calls.
Don't have to listen to that awful snore,
and put up with relatives I don't like anymore.

I have a kingsize bed all to myself,
and I've acquired a wardrobe, 6 drawers and a shelf,
and they're filled to the brim with all my stuff.
No longer am I never enough.

Go on my hols by myself, 6 times a year,
it may be lonesome but I'm never in fear,
'cos this is where adventures begin,
as I write poems on the beach sipping my gin.

I no longer try to impress anyone.
It doesn't matter, 'cos to me, I am number one.
I'm worth every second I spend on myself.
Don't presume I've been left on the singleton shelf.

I'm a person of envy to many of my friends.
No partner with whom to fall out, make amends.
My life is steady and all of my own,
and my self-esteem has blossomed and grown.

All that I have, I've worked hard to get.
I'm proud of my strength and have no regrets.
I thought being alone would be sad somehow,
But I've realised I'm happier than ever right now.

 

Tracy Windross
Apr 2 2022

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Comments:

Really nice poem, not just for the content, which is brilliant, incisive and witty, but it is also beautifully put together and full of optimism rather than regret. Wonderful.

Tony Spencer
Apr 2 2022