Isolation

Four walls,
This drywall has been my cover, my haven for years.
Hiding the hurt and tears from a world that I never wanted to see them.
From childhood, I've closed my door
Letting myself stagnate, pouring out my meek side,
Showing my weaknesses to the lifeless treasures of my years.
A hermit of the modern age is what I've become, some would say.
The emptiness has wrapped me up within its' warm and waiting arms,
Promising a sweet seclusion from reality and responsibility.
It doesn't make me despair, it makes me forget all, ignore all.
I am free, yet captive, with it.
How funny it is that my room has come to resemble me.
Two walls, a pale tan. The other two, white.
Some colors of the past "hidden" beneath, still bleeding through despite all the effort to cover them.
The ceiling, multi-colored and water-spotted,
Marred still with a squeaky ceiling fan in dire need of cleaning.
Purpose has escaped me here, or perhaps I've successfully eluded it..
Conciousness reawakens on occasion, allowing me to remember the need for a purpose at all,
Yet it quickly subsides, like I, becoming slave to the golden tongue that lulls us to rest.
From time to time, I open the blinds that shield me away
And I see the truth of what I cower away from.
I revel in the sunlight that seeps through seven-foot-long porthole to this ever-confusing Earth.
It's then I realize how disparaging this isolation can be.

Author's Note

Wrote this as I thought it up, please let me know what you think.

Reviews

[Naomi Montana Walsh]

Isolation..your poem made me think . actually you can't really hide in isolation..I like a certain amount of isolation the truth is sometimes the only input we need is found in isolation the space and silence to hear our own thoughts ..well written

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

Sounds like my room, I'm sorry I tend to seclude a lot myself. Very well written poem. A bit on the sad side. Thank you for sharing. Debileah