November, some rain, dark evenings - all conspire to drag down your thoughts and make you a bit depressed. Hence the following:
Alone, afraid,but aren´t we that a lot
When through our lives we go and meet new things?
First off, our birth - though most forget that time.
School,if we have no confidence or friends.
New job, strange town, colleagues assess and stare.
The loneliness will change from time to time
But is always there and in a corner lurks,
Appearing when you least expect it to.
You go through life and cope quite well,
But now and then things block your way and then
The fear returns and only you alone
Can face it down and carry on towards your goal.
But at the end, the most extreme will come
When, by yourself and scared, you face your death.
For no-one knows what happens then.
I did say dismal, didn´t I?
It doesn´t rhyme, either. It´s a first attempt at blank verse and iambic pentameters. Impressive-sounding, or
what?
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