The Solitary Note

(A symphonic pity party)

Sorrowful Old Man, Vincent van Gogh, 1882, housed at the Kröller-Müller Museum in Otterlo, Netherlands. (source: Wikipedia)

One day I found
a note on the ground
it was from long ago
before you were around

It was an outline of a dream
nothing harsh or extreme
nothing so shallow
just a recurring theme

The phone is always silent
more of a toy than a tool
me still hoping it will ring
such a lonely heart’s fool

No one calls anymore
they are just too busy
time enough for their world
just never any time for me

Like an old daytimer
a date long since erased
no longer valid
a scheduled entry replaced

All the love I gave
it’s like it didn’t exist at all
hoping to be rekindled
with one simple call

When I was sick you never showed
you never asked if I was okay
When I was hurting you didn’t know
you never missed me enough to say

I know there have been times
When you’ve felt lost and alone
but I wonder if you’ll ever know
what it’s like to be lonely at home

You use words like love and care
mostly words from a dictionary
meanings lost in time
like the memories you carry

Like a balloon off its string
saying love you without an I
is void of all attachment
might as well say hi and bye

You say you love me
well maybe you once did
but love is more than a word
it is something you must give

I bet you think you have time
all the world is ahead of you
that I’ll always be here
no matter what you plan to do

I have made plenty of mistakes
that much is inescapably true
but you gave up on me
I never gave up on you

I hated the job I did
that empty, meaningless work
that sucked my life away
and turned me into a jerk

Whispers behind my back
remembering every flaw
instead of helping me through it
you treated me like an outlaw

No crowd will be at my grave
no flowers, sermons or songs
just a man in a wooden box
who’ll be in the ground before long

So much pain and misery
I grow tired of this earth anyway
why does evil endure
and the good fade away

After I’m dead and gone
after the dirt has settled down
I hope you’ll remember me
rotting in the ground

After I’m dead and gone
with no fanfare or streaming tears
know I will no longer be waiting
for you to appear

I folded up that note
and tucked it away in a folder
and there it will stay
growing daily just a little older

©Thomas Crandall, February 2026

Note: the absence of punctuation and the plethora of contractions are deliberate. My disgraphic mind at play.

---