Thistle Down

By Ethel

Loneliness

Loneliness is just because,
Your soul is sighing.
That somewhere in the make of you,
Your heart is crying.

You must gain attention,
From those you care about.
You must feel the clasping hand,
And smother every strain of doubt.

It's just because there's emptiness,
Where fulness once was kept.
Where fields within your mixed-up mind,
Of flowering thoughts are swept.

Perhaps the vessels of your store,
Are tumbled...where they lie.
And rootlets on the hill above,
Are withered, limp, and dry.

Loneliness is just because,
The joys...for which you boast.
Have somehow slowly slipped away,
From things...you love the most.


E.P. 1908 - 1989

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