just a poem I wrote at school...
The quiet ones, whose claim to solitude has long been kept, and lived and breathed as life itself,
Occasionally experience something quite unexpected, rare and unexplored: they are left in the wilderness….
The silent ones, whose quiet time is their time; during which they roam free in an open mind,
Posing questions, contemplating life – sometimes find that thinking deep is too much strain and are left with nothing to do.
These deep-thinkers, who content themselves by wandering wonderingly,
Sometimes feel pangs of something
When they find themselves unable to conjure up something interesting,
Where the situation is a lack of imagination: they are lost.
The strange ones who are rarely noticed, not seen with friends but seen to be happy alone.
Something extraordinary comes knocking at their door – something negative which comes up and battles with the things that these solitary people enjoy! They are on their own!
The others, seemingly happy when no one’s around and sometimes this can be the case, but sometimes the feeling they have time for themselves turns around and bites them – they are surprised…
So what is this something, unexpected and rare, when contemplation is a struggle,
When people with interesting thoughts get bored and creativity levels are low?
This thing, this pain, this something else, this omen that comes knocking on the door, these pangs are symptoms of loneliness.