The thing about solitude is
You can’t have enough
Even when you bathe in it
You’ve not had your drug
You want to be alone
Throughout all the day
You won’t go outside
Come what may
You don’t want to see friends
No not at all
Take the dog for a walk
Not your ball
You would rather stay inside
Drink and watch tv
For in our little head
It’s, well, to be free
.
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