Today has been one of those days, not a moment to stop and think, or write, or read. Being engaged in a major project, such as moving from one state to another, can be exhilarating, but right now exhaustion wipes all that away. Still, I bring you my post, as promised. It is related to the sense I sometimes have, the sense of being alone. We all are; there is no one in our skin with us. We seek company constantly, and many can’t stand being alone with ourselves. I can; I like it quiet. But sometimes, I just need to know someone hears. So today, a poem about being alone.

A SINGLE VOICE

A voice sings alone in the darkness;
No one hears.
A voice weeps alone in the darkness;
No one hears.
A voice scream alone in the darkness;
No one hears.

 The voice fades,
Dimmed by age, or exhaustion,
Never hearing a new voice
|Take up the refrain,
A single voice,
Singing, weeping, screaming in her place,
Unheard, and alone.

 Voices rise and fall,
Singing alone,
Their own private joy.
Their own private pain.
No one hears.
Their voices dim and die,
Never knowing they are not alone.
There are millions of voices
Singing with them,
Each alone
Each in the darkness,
Each unheard.

 The din of a world busy with its business,
Stuck in its own desires,
Cannot stop to hear
Thousands of voices
Crying out from their own despair,
No one caring to hear
The voice of a woman
Singing, weeping, screaming,
Asking for relief
Or maybe just asking
When is it my turn?