Old Year’s Day draws to its close
Raucous room pressed full in warm-faced embrace
Separate and alone propped against beer-soaked oak
He is found lost in the crowd’s refrains
Resonating in silence his disconnected pain.
Jovial masquerade acts on in stupor
Group-laugh passes by on curve of crescendo
then wanes and fades into the future.
Obituary of another year passed
Penned in his head un-rhymed and mis-timed
As he sits in sad solitude, whiskey un-iced
Lost in the mayhem, free from the bind
A silent observer of his own once removed lie.
Discordant voices break, late, in drunken tones
‘Old acquaintance be forgot, never brought to mind’
His absent presence, brought to no-ones.
Count of the night ends still, sudden bolted steel
Jarred behind him as he turns to pass-by
Feet moving forward to another countless sleep
As he slips unseen through the masses
His tightened chest tender-torn, as unspoken glass
Refrain breaks in rendition from revellers last
The resounding wave of tormenting merriment
Dissipates to distance, lost to the past
Tripping movements of the merry dance onward
the New Year’s promise to befriend.
Aching souls of the lonely drift inward
as Old Year’s Day draws to end.
You have chosen some good adjective/noun duos – ‘raucous room’; ‘jovial masquerade’. It is doubly painful to read because of the lack of rhythm but then that fits the discordancy of the lone drinker in the midst
-“lost in the crowd’s refrains
Resonating in silence his disconnected pain.”
Nothing like a New Year to make the isolated feel so cut off – still I wish you a very happy, healthy and creative 2020 x
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