A human, with a blue-grey backpack on, blue jeans, and hoodie standing within an abandoned warehouse which is filled upon the bottom and near next layer with waste of trash — everywhere.
Photo by Peter Herrmann on Unsplash

Forever and always.
In a crowd
In the solitude of my own,
I am always alone.

Here, in my own life’s closet
I hide from the others
Around me.
They do not have time
For me;
They do not have time
For themselves.

My needs are my own;
I accept their existence
Their purpose
Their weighted pressure.
Pressing down, pressing down
Always — pressing down.

I am burdened…
I am a burden…
I am —
The issue.
That’s why
I am alone.

In life,
After death;
I came here
And I will soon

While I wish I had something really catchy to share for the inspiration on this poem; I am sorry to say, but I just can not provide it. Alone was written during one of my deep depression bends which was really overextending its welcome.

The best I can offer you is my apology if this poem made you feel down, slowed, or terrible about your own life’s outlook. To be honest, I struggled with even wanting to post this poem to the public but… sometimes life is just shit and it needs to be said.


— Source —

Herrman, P. H. (2021, May 15). brown wooden house near green trees during daytime [Photograph]. Unsplash.



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Moony Thinker

Moony Thinker


Writer, poet, blogger, promoter of fellow artists, and drinking a healthy 32 cups of coffee per day! INFP — T (AF!); Chaotic Neutral FTW!