I am not anti-social, but I do find that sometime I do need "alone" time to clear my head. I do not have a large number of friends, and with the loss of my dear Christine, I now have no real close friends. This poem shows a lot of the real me:
The steps are mine,
at least for the time being.
Tracing my finger along a crack--
Neither adding to, nor taking away
from the surface.
There is no moon,
and I don't need one.
Shadowless, my world
surrounds me and supplies
all I need at the moment.
A voice would be unwelcome,
as would any sound
that pushed its way
into my thoughts.
Maybe tomorrow night
will bring moonlight
and night birds,
But tonight, I am
glad that I am
alone.
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