The bitterness is no longer a surprise
It is a daily taste to relish
Nothing seems to mean that much
Those reaching out can’t feel my touch
I have slowly immersed myself in grief
And loneliness with the crowd
Is found to be a small relief.

And yet, I ask myself tonight
What right have I to shun my friends
For there I’ll find a sense of peace
As bitter feelings find release
For they may feel such pain as I
And hurt inside as much – and feel
That awful, awful need to cry.

©Joe Wilson – Lost…2016

The unbearable waiting…


No recognisable thoughts are in his mind these days
Only sorrow for the loss, he feels so achingly sad
He had never lived alone before, it wasn’t for him, normal
His life at this time was the unhappiest he’d had.

He’d watched as she crumbled and the weight brought him sorrow
He was crushed by the heartache that accompanies such loss
He had not faired too well by himself to be quite honest
Now he sits by the grave that slowly covers with moss.

And all that he waits for is for one day to join her
The unbearable wait overwhelms him so much
Only the end when it comes can now please him
For he so hopes to find her for their hearts to retouch.

He’d loved her for all of the time he remembered
Theirs was such love that one never defines
Now he sits so lonely and awaits his dark angel
To carry him back home to the love he so pines.

©Joe Wilson – The unbearable waiting…2016

Lauds…(the 3rd morning)

Etched deep in human nature found
Is not the plight of others bound
In loneliness, they cry out.

Fallen by the way, so many
Whose lives could change with love, if any
In loneliness, they cry out.

Is not the plight of others found
In depths so low there is no sound
In loneliness, they cry out.

Whose lives could change with love, if any
Caught in cultural hegemony
In loneliness, they cry out.

In depths so low there is no sound
Trampled far beneath the ground
In loneliness, they cry out.

And God, who is their single friend
Such failings He must ever end
In loneliness, they cry out.

Trampled far beneath the ground
Etched deep in human nature found
In loneliness, they cry out.

©Joe Wilson – Lauds…(the 3rd morning)…2016

It often hurts being different…

Even now so many years later
The rawness picked at the scars
Contempt was all they’d felt for him
They beat him with iron bars.

His faith was just the same as theirs
He worked as hard as they
But the night the hooded men came
Not a single word did they say.

For just that single one moment
He wished he looked their way
But he’d been born albino pale
Not pink or black as they.

His skin always burnt in Summer
He could barely cope with the sun
The butt of harsh jokes for all his short life
He blew out his brains with a gun.

There was no one to mourn his passing
His death never raised an eyebrow
He was simply a lonely sad suicide
Who just couldn’t fit in somehow.

©Joe Wilson – It often hurts being different…2016

We fall despite ourselves…

He never knew he’d fallen in love
Love was always for others he thought
Thought he liked a very nice girl once
Once even asking her out sometime
Sometime sadly, it never came.

Came the realisation crashing in on him
Him feeling a fool for showing he cared
Cared enough he realised one time
Time that was precious and slipping away
Away from him daily as lonely he stayed.

Stayed on that shelf that singles inhabit
Inhabit the space where lonely sets in
In to his soul and all through his actions
Actions that he always had in control
Control his watchword but for one time…then.

Then something happened that changed him forever
Forever, for he met the one in his dreams
Dreams you can never believe in the real world
World is a place though where strange things are true
True they became…when I met with you.

©Joe Wilson – We fall despite ourselves…2015


I see the lights of distant towns
yet hear the noise of happy sounds
while sitting, seeing in my cave
in total silence
……….…..like the grave.

My cave’s a room
within a house
where I sit quietly
….………..as a mouse.

I cannot think
as thought is gone
from brain which stopped
……..…….it can’t go on.

And so to dust
my body goes
reduced by maggots
……………and fed to the crows.

©Joe Wilson – Desolation…2015

The Nightmare…


When the world comes to an end
for me at least – I will be alone.
I have known my love since
I was a callow sapling
she taught me everything I know about

I’ve never known anyone like her
and now – I would be alone…forever.

I couldn’t cope
I would mope about
long, long quiet moments
then I would shout
O how I would shout.

It would be hell on earth
– unbearable.

It is the nightmare
that stops me sleeping…

©Joe Wilson – The nightmare…2014