Writing Is A Lonely Street Poem by Sonia Walker

writing is a lonely street
wandering thoughts
knocking on doors
no one answers
knuckles bleed from
persistent rapping

footsteps echo throughout
the lane without a chase
acknowledgement is too
busy to acknowledge
muse is not amused
decaying in its one-bedroom
apartment stale from not
getting enough oxygen

solitary coffee breaks
and patting oneself on a
stooped shoulder add to the
isolation of being alone
sharing thoughts with others
occurs once a month in a
structured writing group
at the neighborhood library
to make members feel united
and cozy while reading their
latest poems to listeners who
listen with captured attention

time is over with the playmates of
the sandbox which provides some
temporary solace while walking on a
lonely street up to the third floor
of the isolated flat