He has considered weeping, only
he can’t even bring himself to
take a stab at it. He just can’t cry–
it is terrible to cry
when you’re by yourself, because
what then?
Nothing is solved,
nobody comes;
even solitary children understand. This
apparent respite, apparent quenching
of the need to be befriended
might (much like love in later years) leave you
lonelier than when you were merely alone?
Great poem, speaks right to the brutal truth about weeping being learned by those with an audience who cared to respond to it and not by everyone who might feel like breaking down into tears.
ReplyDelete