and his name is "loneliness"

there is a creature,
perhaps which is of man
of perhaps which is not.
little prefer to look upon the appearance it bestows,
but many spend time in its presense-
like a curious boy amining around a haunted house.
its eyes are of ice, filmed with old age, and cataracts,
but seeing more than a youthful eye
will ever.

this simian-like inhabitant dresses in no clothing,
but its figure is blank and lacking indescancy.
a gray pigment endures in his skin,
secreting the sentiment which he is named after.
joints are absent, but a skeleton is not,
limitting the various movements it might endeavor.
transitions are fragile, and often involving friction,
but it promenades and promotes dialogue
in perfect manner when spent with,
while releasing the smile of a seraph.

oh how many have paid a visit,
but always denying the appointments made.
and how many have said, "i know not of this creature.",
but his name is jotted on nearly every loose note owned?
(even a few i tossed about my chamber as well...)

he taps at the glass when all others are idle,
humming their favorite songs in tunes so bitterly-sweet
that they feel compelled to rise from their beds
and hum along in some disenchanted friendship...

and his name is "loneliness",
and his attendance is often,
but we deny every one.
we
deny
them
all.