The Lonely Child

He was an only child. And as all only children he too was a lonely one.

The parents gone to the office—the child found him all alone in the house. The rooms, silent, seemed to eat him up—the traumatic silence seemed to tear him apart. There was no sound other than his very own breathing, no movements other than his own loitering, no living being other than the one in front of the mirror!

He was an only child—he was a lonely child.

He found only printed papers to be his companion—he found only white papers to speak his mind. He was all-alone—a complete lone creature—amidst the crowded world.


Slowly he learned to make friendship with the loneliness—
Slowly he learned to like the loneliness—
Slowly he grew up with the loneliness—


Slowly he himself became the loneliness—


His mind remained lonesome while he roams about among the relations of life.

With a heart utter alone the child grew up—
With a mind utter alone the child turned aged—


He stretched his arms—in desperate passion—to find a soul—he ended up finding only vacant air to be his mate!

His hairs turned gray—he continued on with his own lonesome world.


The lonely kid became a lonely man—

Lonely by heart—
By mind—
By feelings—
By passion—
By physic—

Lonely by every possible means—  

The rest of the World moved on together—
He stayed behind—
All alone—
With all his loneliness—



He is the Loneliness…