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I've lost all patience for society,
I wish I were alone entirely.
Perhaps with monks and all their piety,
Or I could live like Scrooge so miserly.
Some people live with ease and laugh a lot,
they host their dinner parties every week,
But what's the use pretending when I'm not
The type to kiss, but slap you on the cheek.
No, I can't live amongst them any longer,
I can not bear to hear the platitudes;
My hate for fakes could not be any stronger,
nor for their nicely polished attitudes.
I would rather hide within a hole
than placate these people with a wave.
I have such envy for the lives of moles;
cool, dark, sunken rooms are what I crave.
© 2014 Nicholas Emeigh
Read by the Author
Part of the group "Record-A-Poem," and part of the Playlist "The Poetry of Nicholas Emeigh" which includes 40+ other poems.
Notes: This poem was written on Sunday, March 23, 2014. I am just finished with people. Everyone is fake, no one is real, and I'm sick of having to deal with everyone. I'd like to just go underground.
The unique works displayed on the pages herein are © 1997-2013 Nicholas Emeigh. Use is restricted.
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