Solitude

It’s hard to be a hero. It’s easier when no one
Knows who you are and never says hi or shakes your hand
So you can live your hopeless and dreamless life in quiet
And have nobody crying upon your nameless grave.

It’s hard to make one happy. It’s simpler to have no one
Too close to you, like lovers who’d die if set apart.
So you won’t miss nobody, and have no one to miss you
Or care for you when sickness will weaken up your heart.

It’s hard to love and cherish. You’re better off when people
Feel nothing towards you, see you, but never know you’re there
And you become a statue that’s sitting on a pavement
Untouched by hands or feelings, thus never hurt or scared.

Alone is so much better, though you might find it harder
At times when life will see you so lonely that you’ll break.
But think how without loving, or trusting one another
There’ll be no disappointment, no suffering...no hate.