Foreign

The little pleasures of
withdrawing into oneself has become almost
foreign.
It's like the words coming out of their mouths
somehow got translated into Greek,
and I don't understand any of it.

You people so casually disregard my
graceful solitude,
and choose to take the long route
into the horizon.
I'm paralysed by your aloofness;
I watch, I observe, I keep silent.

You cast shadows over the barren sunset
and throws a small grin my way, and it
does not quite meet your eyes.
And in this remote age which I
seem to be suspended in,
as if it could keep my balance,
I watch silently as you wave at me,
embarking on your journey to
the bottom of the sea,
letting the ocean pull you in
away from me.

All I can say is, thank you, Mr. Jim Carroll.