Isolated, alone, even in a crowd.
Silent, quiet, but not without something to say,
Darkened corner, a solitary shroud,
Isolated, alone, even in a crowd.
Bent by the crushing weight of darkness: bowed,
Salty tears, could there be no other way?
Isolated, alone, even in a crowd.
Silent, quiet, but not without something to say.
4/3/17
My first attempt at a troilet.
Poem #4 for National Poetry Writing Month (aka #NaPoWriMo)