POETRY

The Stranger

I know I am alone

Photo by Katleen Vanacker on Unsplash

I do not belong, since I refuse to spend my last ounce of honor in belonging.

I sit here quite alone, though I long have been surrounded by the others’ company.

If they were once to listen to the meaning of the words I sometimes choose to utter,

They might soon find offense, for they would strike them unwieldy; that I fully understand.

I choose my lines with care, and try to write them plainly for those who choose to read them,

Knowing well that they may be few and scattered everywhere, separated, near-forgotten.

I know I am alone, but somehow I still keep the company of strangers.

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