A Solitary Life Poem by Richard Lackman

How is it at the age of sixty I am still alone
Each day walking, eating, sleeping always on my own
How did I miss the partnership that most of us attain
My only walking partner seems to be my walking cane

I never had that many friends; I never quite fit in
Was never picked when picking sides by those who liked to win
I was more a quiet person sitting by myself
Never in the foreground like a book back on the shelf

And yet I have my attributes; I’m not a total bore
I do love writing poetry, whoever it is for
I like to walk and ride a bike and fish along a lake
I drink red wine on holidays and always like a cake

And yet I guess that’s not enough to occupy a spouse
Not enough for me to share my life or share my house
So I must trudge on silently and always all alone
Traveling a path that is uncertain and unknown
Towards a final victory or just a final end
Which may be years away or simply right around the bend

Either way I’ll look back on my life and know I had
A wonderful existence as a man and as a lad
I’ll look back on my solitary life and yes I’ll see
That life for me was more than prose; was more like poetry