the lonely notebook

every page is filled with the scribbles of poetry
and it's lost in a jumble somewhere, unseen
unheard as it cannot speak,
it's a lonely notebook and me, a desperate
writer hoping to copy some ad-lib poem from yesterday.
a cheat, for sure.
now my heart turns to the lonely notebook, not for my
own selfish reasons but in empathy for what it is to be lonely.
i have been there many times and will be again
when the skin lies close to the bone and my friends
are gone to ashes
then i will seek a lonely notebook to write my good-byes,
she will be waiting for me.