A Float through Night Skies and Other Poems in Youth

Alone on the Balcony

Alone he was, this boy of strife

With wind that sweeps his hair

With scenes which shut and open

And him left unaware.

He, detached from sounds

          Of other rooms,

The other rooms that were alive

The top, a baby in hard weeping

The bottom, a ravenous party

The left, a man in hard praying

The right, lovers in ecstasy.

Though night it was this scene of time

The roads were bright and vivid

The many sounds of life inclined,

And the lifting streets; explicit,

         Motorbikes, Cars

         Lorries, Trucks

         Honks and Brakes

Converge together in one,

To become a frigid sound.

The sea, so near with violent waves

Hits the beach with angry tides

Though high it was, no fear was near

It came, it went with swiftness,

It's colours reflected the night

Some would find it lavishly sad

Others say it was openly glad.

And yet, he was still alone,

Closed within the compound

His dreams his only solace.

Although he lives like some,

He strives alone; reserved

Alone he sits within his head

Alone on his happy balcony.