Never made friends easily
Kept himself to himself
He always shut away his mind
No one knew what he thought

Worked hard, did his hours
Didn't smile, he didn't talk
Ate his lunch, always alone
Went home to an empty house

Nobody liked him
Thought him odd
Nobody needed him
Thought him sad

His past was a tragedy
Lost all those he loved
Came from a war torn country
Where all he cared for died

He travelled to start all anew
A stranger in a foreign land
He kept the horror buried inside
Found it easier to always be alone

Nobody liked him
If only they tried
Nobody needed him
He wished they had

Copyright Chris Smith #darkpoetsoul 2020