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Solitary Man
Sometimes I feel like a solitary man.
Under the night sky writing what I can.
No one else is moving or driving cars.
The world belongs to me under the stars.
While pondering in my solitude
Without a thought or plan,
Thoughts jump into the mind
Of this solitary man.
I don't know where they come from.
They are just my own surprise.
Sometimes I'd swear that they have come
Through a different set of eyes.
In prison I know that solitary
Can drive a person mad.
But in those I once sent there,
For the solitude they seem glad.
The Lord needed His solitude
For at one time forty days.
And again when in the garden,
Where for the souls of men He prayed.
So in my time of solitude
I also have time to pray.
It's when I feel the closest,
To Him in my night each day!
poem
by
Robert Edgar Burns
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