Is something perhaps with me amiss?
If I prefer solitude to company
content to spend moments alone
far away from the cacophony
This a strange dilemma indeed
for a poet to have acquired
What could he even write about
without any subject(s) to admire?
Perhaps tis a malady called depression
that afflicts so many a scribe
they write to benefit the populace
but themselves don't subscribe
From dark corners of their soul
the morbid tales they share
Isn't it then little wonder?
that of humanity they are scared