Forsaken

In Neglect
By; Robert Frost
They leave us so to the way we took,
As two in whom they were proved mistaken,
That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook,
with mischievous, vagrant, seraphic look,
and try if we cannot feel forsaken.

Noon rises too fast.  The sun is too quick for my taste.  Home is where the day takes me, wherever life shall take me I rest my head. My life style was not by choice in my own eyes, but by my needs, the way my needs have taken me. Most think them idle wants, but I know the truth. On first glance, you pass them off as wants, but once you see it a second time, third, fourth and fifth, you begin to see them for what they are. The venous flytrap in which I fell. A mild metaphor for the trap I fell into.