Web of Loneliness Poems

Poems of the Lonely

Tag Archives: lost

Loud Silence

What can I do when the silence sets in

So deafening I can hear my heart beat

Its more frightening than it has ever been

Once again I retreat



From life, filled with shame and a tear

Needing a hug a friendly face, a smile

Needing someone near

Even if it’s only for a while



I shout Hey I’m nice, loving and kind !

Nobody’s listens and even the silence is too loud

So what’s the point of trying to find

A place to belong, to feel proud



Of who I am and how far I have come

The highest of hills and the deepest of seas

Impossible to imagine for some

That I did it all, survived, with ease



But the price I pay is steep

Lost myself, but make others smile

Me, the fighter, inside I weep

Longing to belong, if only for a while



I despise the silence but it comforts me as well

Safe from hurt, I ignore the chains

And the emptiness, no one can tell

That I feel this way, that the longing remains



Why can’t they see that I’m good and loving and kind ?

I guess it’s me who blocks their view

The one thing I’m looking for I can’t seem to find

What the Hell am I going to do ??



I open doors and lead the way

To my heart, my soul , me !

But no one never seems to stay

I look around , no one I see



I must be doing something wrong

To end up in the place I am

Too difficult , too weak, too strong?

I’m trying the best I can



To make others stay, to show I care

It works for a while and I am free!

But when I look again, nobody’s there

Yeah, it’s my fault I guess, it must be………



What’s Wrong?

What the hell is wrong with me? Have I completely lost my mind?
How can it be possible, there was no warning sign.
As I sit in my room and try to keep you out of my head, Everything I think of, still points to you instead.

What the hell is wrong with me? Can this really be true?
All I ever think about is spending time with you.
I told myself I’d never fall for another one.
Because of you in my life that curse has been undone.

What the hell is wrong with me? Have I thought it through?
Every waking hour I want to be with you.
My morals keep asking if what I’m doing is right?
There’s something that comes over me when I hold you tight.

What the hell is wrong with me? Is all of this for real?
Your already taken, that’s a fact and it all becomes surreal.
Should I just let it go and move on with my life?
Why have I fallen for someone else’s wife?

What the hell is wrong with me? I should wake up and see the light.
I just can’t understand how something so wrong, makes me feel so right.
My mind is spinning round and round a hundred miles an hour.
I guess I should accept the fact, that it’s not within my power.

What the hell is wrong with me? Even writing this little poem.
Maybe I should back way way off, and leave it all alone.
I know it sounds real easy, I should just make the call.
It’s really quite the opposite when your heart has taken that fall.



What Happened?

Always out there, always popular
Always had friends, always with a partner.
One marriage but what was love?
Another marriage and I had it for real
Then she went and found it with another.

My soul mate next but I couldn’t escape
The ravages of my childhood…Nor she
as we loved and lost and fell apart
time and time again.
For she was the one.
Now she’s gone too, and happy like all the rest.
After me they always do best.

Meeting new people, going out now.
Singles scene, not for me, but what else?
The process helps but can’t fill the hole within.
They care but I feel nothing.
What should I feel?
How do you feel?
Who to talk to?
Brother, Mother. They stuffed my head.
Father wonderful, but now he’s dead.

Now it’s just me and my new shadows.
Lurking, silent, unrelenting, cold and draining.
They follow me everywhere, They’re always there
I can no longer hide. When will they go?
But I have my kids, although they’ll never know.
So far so good, they haven’t seen through my faces
My smile manufactured when I take them places.

I’ve done my dash, I had my chances
Just never meant to be, for me.
I see now that the kind of happiness I’ve always dream of
was only meant for others.
And so many others
What happened to me?

Goodbye D
Goodbye J
Goodbye K
I envy your happiness.



In mysterious union, once found, once lost,

We crossed into our illusion’s peace.

Where the new dawn fades and finds us not together.

Under the sightless stars with nothing left to wish upon.

In lunar lament, the moon is now a groping beacon,

To slumber and illuminate the space between us.


While the axe finds first the tallest tree,

While the sound of the flute returns to the bamboo,

We stroll through our illusion’s peace.

Past the mouth, the gate of our misfortune.

The ears for our loving words, the gaze of salt pillars,

Where for the first time, there is nothing again.


While we hold and harbor the space between us,

And separate the mirror from its reflection,

From our illusion’s peace, I bid thee come.


And you, so afraid of love, with wishes and outcomes

As dried leaves in a tottering breeze.

From our illusion’s peace, I bid thee come.


And you, keeper of the true smile, tormentor and savior,

Who would just as soon roll a stone

In front of our illusion’s peace, I bid thee come.


Come then and see the wounds,

Rest your fingers inside them and contemplate

Partners and partners and days of old.

Surely you need not change

In our illusion’s peace.


Let us stroll then, you and I,

Lost and found in the fading dawn.

Under the wishless stars and groping moon.

Past the fallen tree and the silent bamboo.

Past the pillars of salt.


Between the space and the mirror.

Between the leaves and the breeze.

With the smile and the stone.

With the old and the uncommitted faces

For whom you refuse to change.


Let us gaze then, you and I,

At the wounds and the wounds of love

With resting fingers, and let this time,

The first time, not be nothing again.

For here in our illusion’s peace, I bid thee come.


The Dog

I am not English,
But lost in an English country,
I use it to express myself…,
I don’t know how,
Or worse,
I don’t know what,
Or even this
Can this be expressed,
Since emptiness is inexpressible in words,
So my clumsiness is evermore symbolic.
Lost from myself, my roots, my youth, my culture,
Rottening full  of the same Angst,
But worse than the old Kierkegaard.

I still have my dog.