A Lonely Poem
This one is from way back. I definitely am in a better place now.
A thought often crosses my mind of melancholy disposition,
Genesis of morose pleasures when empathy seems lacking
My love for others has become a weakness and strength alike
And I wonder…
“If I vanished, would most even notice I was gone?”
Would they remember to tell me “Happy Birthday!”
Would they call me just to catch up?
If I stopped instigating the conversations, would they think enough of me to become an instigator themselves and ask if I were ok?
I know life is busy, and I know good friends are few,
But do you think of me as much as I think of you?
You are constantly in my prayers.
Your face illuminates my mind
No matter how busy I get or how much my life may suck I still think of you.
If only 2 or 3 echoed my sentiments, I’m not sure that those would be enough for my satisfaction
Maybe it’s because far more than 2 or 3 cross my mind daily,
Maybe I care too much for too many,
Maybe the point is to learn how to pour into people out without expectation of anyone to pour back.
Still, my question rings clear, “How many would think of me if I quietly disappeared?”
Why do I crave such attention?
To me, it seems a simple request to want to know that one is loved by more than just those who share their blood. They’re forced to put up with you. They might as well love you.
I want to know that my name elicits fond memories in the hearts of the lives I’ve been privileged enough to come into contact with, and that those memories move them to seek me out to make more of them.
I have meditated on actually vanishing, but for fear that my presence would not be missed, my thoughts are arrested and cannot manifest action.
No matter how busy I get or how much my life may suck I still think of you.
If only 2 or 3 echoed my sentiments, I’m not sure that those would be enough for my satisfaction
Maybe it’s because far more than 2 or 3 cross my mind daily,
Maybe I care too much for too many,
Maybe the point is to learn how to pour into people out without expectation of anyone to pour back.
Still, my question rings clear, “How many would think of me if I quietly disappeared?”
Why do I crave such attention?
To me, it seems a simple request to want to know that one is loved by more than just those who share their blood. They’re forced to put up with you. They might as well love you.
I want to know that my name elicits fond memories in the hearts of the lives I’ve been privileged enough to come into contact with, and that those memories move them to seek me out to make more of them.
I have meditated on actually vanishing, but for fear that my presence would not be missed, my thoughts are arrested and cannot manifest action.
I relinquish the notion to disappear and fall back into self-serving habit. I go through my contact list and search for someone who wants to talk to me as much as I them.
I seek to remind them that I am here.
That I exist
And that I care
Then wait in anticipation and hope of reciprocation
In vain
No one answers my knocks
My calls fall on deaf ears
I busy myself to forget
I seek to remind them that I am here.
That I exist
And that I care
Then wait in anticipation and hope of reciprocation
In vain
No one answers my knocks
My calls fall on deaf ears
I busy myself to forget
If God has answered my call for a friend, I believe I may have ceased to hear his voice. Or maybe my relationship to him has correlations to that of mine and my deaf friends.
Maybe, I never really knew his voice in the first place…
Very heartfelt and well said -I was really pulled in with the first couple of lines. Great work.
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