Modern Solitude
They say we've learned to live alone,
Content to sit beside our phone,
That friendship fades by our design,
And solitude is now divine.
But I don't think the tale is true,
Or quite as simple as they do.
We haven't lost our need to care,
For hands to hold and lives to share.
Instead we've built a hurried age,
A treadmill, deadline, endless stage,
Where time is scarce and spirits thin,
And every day feels hard to win.
By evening's light we're worn and tired,
Our social batteries long expired.
So home becomes the easiest place,
A quiet room, a slower pace.
It's not that we reject the crowd,
Or wear our loneliness as proud.
It's just that life has found a way
To steal the hours from every day.
The deeper truth we ought to see
Is not a choice of being free
And living our lives, apart, alone,
Or cutting ties from what was known.
For hearts still yearn as hearts have done,
Beneath the moon, beneath the sun.
The need for friendship still remains,
It courses softly through our veins.
But we've built a world so fast
That human moments cannot last.
What once was grown with time and care,
A chat, a meal, a presence there,
Is not less loved, not less sincere,
But squeezed by lives that feel severe.
So weary souls will often choose
The path that asks the least to use.