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| Lonely Poem | |
| By Toad | ||||||||||||
| 21 December 2006 | ||||||||||||
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A miserable lover. Always shocked at himself, dismayed at the face he sees. Seeking out the qualities he loathes, safe in the fact that this woman could never have a clue who he is. The more he craves, the more he writhes. Where can he go? Where could he ever build a home? Among friends, desperate for a friend. Surrounded by music, desperate for his own. Holidays with stunning scenery will do no good. There’s always gasoline, one dollar bills and brochures. There’s nowhere to run to, but every morning he laces sneakers and runs for miles. In exhaustion, there is no dialogue, there are no questions to ask. But as he scrambles his eggs, he wonders, what is it inside of him that makes him want to be so lonely?
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