Answer: Seclusion

When I am asked why I live in seclusion
I reply to them in silence.
Who are they to understand my ways
If they cannot see what lies in seclusion?
Now how can one ask me if I'm secluded?
A telephone is wonderful at times.
Out of the corner of my eye do I see:
Two lovers quarreling in the window.
Funny...I have no lover and I never quarrel.
Yet those with love are suffocated daily
Is this some unforseen ritual of love?
They must hate their lover occassionally
In order to truly love them?
How stupid of people.
I say love and forget.
Memory is only a tragedy.