Isolation, to most men, is troublesome.
They'd rather fit warm palms together,
“It’s more fun.”
“It’s better to one of tons,
than one of none.”
Loneliness makes you feel homeless.
You discover you know less.
When you take your time to think
And mull over old actions.
You’re shallow mind swells
And spills over.
The whispered rumors left unsaid.
They construct eternal worlds inside you head.
There lie pits of slumbering shade.
Where hopeful light is consumed,
By the hollow holes in your heart.
You fall apart.
And quietly ponder what could be.
If you could see,
Realm in which I wander.
The world of quite.
The benefits of utter silence.
Because often we are mindless
When we find less time to be alone.
Internally, we incinerate ourselves.
the crowd is agonizing to fall away from
Because isolation, to most men, is far to troublesome