I wonder how much to share on this blog. Life can seem pretty messed up at the time but when you look back you realise it was just a tiny misspelling in a book. I don't want to document these misspellings on the internet because I know I will regret it. Some however might help others or the process of writing them might bring about the realisation of their insignificance. Either way I'm going to share some of mine with you along the way.
That day I was contemplating why when breathing and moving and living are so difficult we keep doing it. Why do we bother? Sometimes being alone, even for just a few hours can render life pointless. I was sat watching some sheep and I contemplated being alone.
This is a poem for those moments when you feel the most alone. When you're surrounded by people but you've never felt more alone.
The lonely sheep
I’m standing here alone.
I can see my friends,
Meandering past.
They’re trying to find the greenest grass.
They’re trying to get away from me.
There’s Debbie and Burt,
Patrick and Sarah,
All wondering around,
Two by two,
With nothing to do.
I’m standing here alone.
The traffic is deafening.
The air is chilling.
I can see my friends wandering around,
Two by two.
I like my patch, don’t get me wrong.
My grass is good, not tough or strong.
I try to share it, with one or two,
With those I can see with nothing to do.
I’m standing here alone.
Why am I alone?
I breathe and eat just like my friends.
Like those who walk two by two.
There are others alone.
Eating their grass with nothing to do.
There’s Bobby, Scott, Tallulah and Mary.
Those are my friends with nothing to do.
I’m standing here alone.
“You’re a sheep, what need d’you have”.
A sheep needs love.
A sheep needs wanting.
A sheep needs holding.
A sheep needs you.
Why am I alone, with nothing to do?
I’m standing here alone.
I see my friends,
Trotting around two by two,
With nothing to do.
They look like me,
Wool, four legs, can’t you see?
So, why am I alone?
Why am I alone?
I’m standing here alone.
I’m in this field, just like my friends.
I want to walk two by two.
Like Debbie and Burt,
With nothing to do.
I’m standing here alone.
Why am I alone?
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