Song #55



The room is cozy, filled with friends
Chatting about this, that, and the other;
I am alone in their midst, but not lonely.

The only friend I need this night
Other than God
Is my book and pen,
With which I spend quality time
In my own mind.

Don’t mistake my mood for ambivalence
Or misinterpret it into caring nothing
For my surroundings;
Spoken whispers and boastful shouts
Reach my ears equally,
Leaving footprints in my memory.

I suppose I could play the letter “C”
In an “A” and “B” conversation,
But I’m not good at
Pretending to be included,
So if you don’t mind
(And it matters nothing if you do),
I’ll stake my own place beyond the social fringes
So I can write about this, that, and the other.

Come sit with me if you wish,
But do not bring any pity;
My social solitude is not a punishment,
But a respite for time with my book, pen, and God.

© 2006 by Robert E. Blackwell