Alone, albeit popularity

Heyo! Day 6, and as I'm writing this (I've scheduled these to release in advance so I don't forget) this is a poem I wrote today (11/29/21). It's... something. But I'm fond of the language I used.

Alone, albeit popularity


It is a strange feeling.

Strange, though, in that I’ve never experienced a life like this.

Am I now someone who I once envied?

Maybe not. If I, then, could have envied, I was certainly incapable of such a feeling.

It’s the way I was, and, to some degree, that which I am. 

And that, for sure, is all positive.


Even so, though…

Even now I feel this reclusive loneliness.

Could it be stress? Or that I can’t believe their happy looks toward me?

I’d so love to suspend such a disbelief, what with self-esteem and all.

I would, I swear. Without a doubt.

But I still feel that this is not the real reason behind this wracking feeling.


I suppose it’s that no-one looks at me in love. 

Not anymore, and however much I wish it to be the case,

this popularity, this magnetic field I feel now, cannot substitute such a feeling.

Then again, I suppose, that’s not truly what I want.

However greedy it is, or that it feels to me, so help me I’d want to feel both.

But it seems all too far-fetched, even so as the days march on.

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