LarkinesqueThe truth is that I do alright without her.
I trudge here and there. I read. I write.
I eat and sleep. I lead a dull, monastic
Life, and mostly that's okay with me.
I'm not someone who has to talk. I'll
Listen, but I soon grow bored from
Hearing details of the lives of those
Who seem more dull than I. (I marvel
At how that can be!) I am not cheered
By noisy bars. I'm fine here by myself
All day. The only reason why I miss
Her is that, when she spoke to me,
She made me happy, truly happy.
In her absence that is something
I never can be.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 63 times
Written on 2017-01-04 at 14:26
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