I know what it’s like

to enjoy the fruit

in the garden of earthly delights

to want the best woman

the finest wine

to dine

at the tables of Kings.

The party goes from noon until midnight

full of finery

It’s a medieval gathering

To want the attention of Lords and Ladies

To be a respected Jester

and a mysterious magician

but the party ends.

I know what it’s like

to talk to somebody, who doesn’t want to talk

to call-up a friend, who doesn’t want to be a friend

the initial shock, is loneliness

but if you sit with yourself

you may realize

what others despise:

Solitude.

And that empty feeling of loneliness

hiding in the darkest corner of your soul

gets filled by God.

People write Poetry

to say something literary

while

the solitary somebody

does it

to do

what only poetry can do.

It’s sex for the soul.

It’s not the kind of poem

read in a classroom.

It’s said

in silence

It’s better

than a best friend.