I know Sophie

I know Sophie, she lives upstairs and sometimes
when I meet her at the front door she says a shy
“hi” and hastily takes the stair home to her own.

Neighbors say she has lived here for a long time
but no one really knows her well and she’s never
asked anyone around to her home. Although she
doesn’t seem to have any friends or a family, she
doesn’t look sad, but always appears proper and
well-dressed and neat, though she not smiles big.

To me she seems pretty content living her lone life
and I believe she not even has a cat and she seems
not be the type of aunty who watches TV and knits
rose, whitesocks to church’s charity for poor children in Africa.

Yes, I know Sophie but I don’t know much about her
or what she thinks and wants. But I think about her
a lot and wish more people would; see her! Because
you see, Sophie – that is me, your neighbor upstairs.

rose, white

 

 

 

This entry was posted in aging, alienation, armed loneliness, loneliness, loners, lost, old age, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, vulnerability and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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