Lonely Me

something I always wanted to write.

My shadow stretches long and thin,
A silent friend, where do I begin?
To tell the tale of empty rooms,
And afternoons filled with soft glooms.

The clock ticks loud, a steady beat,
Like lonely drums in a quiet street.
I watch the world outside my pane,
Sunlight falls, but feels like rain.

A cup of tea, a book unread,
The thoughts of all I've left unsaid.
The world moves on with hurried grace,
And I am stuck in this lonely place.

But in the quiet, a subtle sound,
A gentle hum from the hallowed ground
Of my own heart, a steady tune,
That knows the warmth of a lonely moon.

It whispers softly, "You are whole,"
"You have your own uncharted soul."
So here I sit, alone but free,
In the quiet of this Lonely Me.