☆°▪︎ WHEN LONELINESS CRIED ▪︎°☆

It

.

w

a

s

.

wintertime,

when

.

t

h

e

.

barren

echoes

.

o

f

.

loneliness

cried,

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

ruthless,

.

unforgiving

.

skies

.

o

f

.

bitter,

.

chastising

winds

.

a

n

d

.

cold-hearted

ice . . .

.

.

.

I

shivered . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

shivered

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

lie . . .

.

.

.

t

h

a

t

it

.

w

a

s

.

for

me

.

t

o

.

decide . . .

.

.

.

 ~ that

.

i

t

.

was

.

f

o

r

.

me

.

t

o

.

decide . . .

.

.

.

t

o

hide

.

a

.

life

.

using

.

words

.

t

h

a

t

.

were

.

n

o

t

.

mine . . .

.

.

.

 ~ to

hide

.

a

.

life,

without

considering

.

t

h

e

.

reasons

why . . .

.

.

.

I

created

.

a

.

n

e

w

.

design,

.

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

.

mimicked

.

a

n

d

.

rhymed . . .

.

.

.

I

created

.

a

.

n

e

w

.

design,

.

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

.

fit

.

s

o

.

well,

within

.

t

h

e

.

coloring

.

book

.

lines . . .

.

.

.

I

shivered . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

shivered

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

lie . . .

.

.

.

t

h

a

t

it

.

w

a

s

.

for

me

t

o

.

decide . . .

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

time,

.

.

w

h

e

n

.

.

carefree

.

fun,

play,

.

a

n

d

.

laughter,

would

.

fly

.

s

o

.

free

.

a

n

d

.

carelessly . . .

.

.

.

 ~ so

free

.

a

n

d

.

carelessly

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

exhilarating

highs,

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

promise

.

o

f

.

sunshine . . .

.

.

.

 ~ a

sunshine

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

would

.

smile,

.

.

w

i

t

h

.

.

a

.

warmth

.

s

o

.

wide,

.

t

h

a

t

.

free

.

spirits

.

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

joy,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

cartwheeled

.

a

l

l

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

summer

skies . . .

.

.

.

 ~ they

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

joy,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

cartwheeled

.

a

l

l

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

summer

skies . . .

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

time . . .

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

time . . .

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

time . . .

.

.

.

b

u

t

now

.

i

t

.

was

wintertime.

Reflection: This was a melancholy-themed poem that I wrote back in October of 2014 where the contemplator looks back with regret on living a life within the tight confines of societal norms just to fit in. We get the feeling he or she will never be happy living in that fashion – because living an authentic, “true to yourself,” kind of life – independent of what others think, believe, or try to convince otherwise – is the only way to truly be happy.