Poem.

[Hannibal]

I mail myself poetry,
So I can pretend to get fun stuff in the mail.

Things I want to read.

But it gets harder to pretend to want to read,
when I already know what the little black letters spell.

Most of the time they always fall into the same pattern -
A - L - O - N - E

I am always amazed at how it happens,
Because when I set the letter into the mailbox
I know -
I didn't write that.

But it's always what I see,
When I rip into the white envelope of excitement.

[Sam Gowland]

I quite liked this poem. Reminded me of putting on a mask and pretending everything was ok, being the life and soul of the party whilst feeling empty inside.

I guess you have to face feeling alone at some point no matter how much you try to pretend otherwise, we can't fool ourselves forever.