He marked his territory kept his distance
a brother in arms can’t be at peace.
This solitude though self-imposed is vital
for a bubble boy soul sheathed in plastic.
No resistance to infection no immunity to pain
no one to free lone wolf’s leg from a steel jawed trap.
Gnawing off pieces of his soul he hobbles on
lame yet still unbowed.
But winters are colder alone by the fire
and new snow is pressing against the door.
Poet13's Blog 
No one will tell you
You belong to them alone
A solstice poultice
LikeLike
Though, at time, in our solitude, we may secretly long to hear then say it.
Thanks.
LikeLike