Alone, I sit here, comfortable yet I feel so barren. Try as I might, nothing I do is fascinating to thine. Attempts to tune out my wondering mind of maybes turns not, music plays through mine earbuds, though it does not replace thine self. Pine all I wish, I cannot do the things wished for by mine weak heart. Long for a time in which I can do something with thou, a game. Art thou so distant, lo, thine presence lay behind a screen, words on a screen, which I wish to read for days as thou company. Pathetic poltroon I may be, pity me, prithee! I art weak beneath thou choices to type or neigh! Answer me, prithee! I may only bare such a feeling of lost so long, lonesome. Needy as an infant bird, I art, prithee, show me the stars.

  • Published February 21, 2020, 16:48
  • in Kiddie Pool
  • in Poetrie
  • is not continuable by others
  • 2 Loves
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