Ah, she's a poet, and she, sort of, knows it.
After my last post, Wishtup commented that I put what he was feeling in better prose than he could have managed. Personally I think it was more prosaic, than prose-like - but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless. As a result, I have written that entry again, but in definite prose this time.
Here we go.....
When dining, I ask for a table for one,
Order a glass of wine, open a book to read.
Keep your head down and carefully wile no-one's eye,
Look assured, and anything but lonely, in need.
Shopping for food is always tiresome
Family size bargains litter the store.
Nothing is cheap in servings for one,
It is expensive - and oh, such a chore!
Invites arrive for weddings and such.
To help celebrate and wishes you send.
But the wording with which they took care,
Mocks as it reads, "To You and a friend."
Sorrow can be shared, and joy doubled
or so they say in sayings gone by.
But my joy is single, no doubling occurs
and sadness is all mine to wallow and cry.
But the last chocolate will always be mine.
If I run out of milk, there's noone to blame.
Left or right - no bed to be shared.
I sleep in the middle, but it's not the same.
I keep myself busy with lots of tasks.
Hobbies and past-times most nights of the week.
Though I have fun, and nary a care,
It masks the pain of love that I seek.
Don't misunderstand, I have many a friend.
Women whose friendship is without compare,
And men that are friends on whom I rely,
But they are all gay, or one of a pair.
So what should I do, with this emptiness inside?
Do I continue my search doing this and that?
Or is it time to concede defeat to Eros,
and finally go out and get a cat?