sitting in a room full of faces
all alone
deafening silence screaming
as their laughter
spills onto the floor
watching as the charades
continue to play out
no one guessing
no one caring
for a moment
wondering
when is it my turn
to play
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
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Do you remember that time when we were at a YW meeting at Pat Owen's house and she was president? I couldn't stop the tears going down my face. It seemed like the meeting was all gossip and since I was new none of it held any value to me. I was struggling with my calling because it was so different than teaching lessons to college kids where I had come from. No one said one thing to me as I sat there. Your poem is hauntingly spot on for that night.
ReplyDeleteSometimes - it's the quiet observation that validates us as an entity. Loneliness - is the souls lot in this life.
ReplyDeleteEngagement always brings an air of desperation.
Thank for you insight; it's not so lonely now that I know someone shares the environment!