A Shell Of Frustration
Sometimes, in life, I’ve become defensive;
hiding my feelings deeply within;
extreme melancholy, makes me pensive;
I’m on the outside; just lookin in.
Most people, I meet; often can’t tell;
for they lack the vision to see;
tho I can make them laugh like hell;
the joke is always on me.
Few can see beyond my smiling face;
that loneliness; I feel deep inside;
the emptiness that’s taken love’s place;
draining my remnant of pride.
My life has become a vacuous shell;
an unloved, lonely creation;
my life is empty; tho few can tell;
living in a shell of frustration.
Many times I’ve felt someone’s love;
feelings that I dare not share;
sensing God’s whisper from above;
I knew she was too young to care.
In this life; we are creatures of time;
more correctly, illusions of light;
my love of a woman has become sublime;
two ships that pass in the night.
I feel I’ve been given a gift to write;
tho still in a shell of frustration;
till death frees me; one lonely night,
my loves will be imagination.
Monty 9.25.24. # 2,357