Outside

Outside
by cricketjeff on March 8, 2010.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
The weary of the world walk by, forgotten by their dreams. Too scared to face
themselves, they are buried in their lives. Buzzing voices, seething thoughts,
too busy and too broken to understand. Without solitude and peace, the
loneliness of friendship struggles past.

I lived there once, loved too. Thought my life mattered, thought I fitted in,
thought that I could be a part, not apart. You were there, I knew I needed you,
knew I wanted you. We walked together for a while. Walked miles, saw so many
faces, heard so many songs, felt the breeze, and lived. And then you walked
away. Now I know truth. Know the pain, know the heartache, know it can never
be. Outside this window is a prison and I alone am free.

Children! Laughing, chasing, playing, hoping. What disappointments they face,
their fools of teachers filling their heads with lies of life. They can only
lose, everyone loses. I lost once, lived and lost. I escaped and locked the
door, leaving them all trapped in their asylum, trapped with their madnesses,
their hates and hopes. Only I stay free. Free in my room, free to be me, free
to forget.

I envy the inmates.

Author notes
7. A recluse looking out a window

I have no idea if this constitutes a prose poem, but it is what it is.