Written by Loot
Without Pleasure
This really isn’t a hedonistic stick that I always carry with me.
But, without pleasure, we’re the sum of our own mediocrity.
Through deprivation, our ephemeral nature clearly displays.
Through absence, soon revealed, the true greyness of days.
Define pleasure, that’s difficult, it’s such a personal thing.
Perhaps the smile of a friend and the joy that it will bring?
The spontaneous fits of laughter, out of simple conversation?
The first meeting, the wait and the thrill of anticipation?
The warmth of a greeting or simple innocent idle chatter?
Or a person showing they care, by asking “what’s the matter”?
Is this a real human condition? Does life require communication?
Whatever, simple fact, I know, I needed more, when in isolation.
To think, I thought, that most people were just superfluous smoke.
Turns out I’m not a solitary soul, but one in great need of a stroke.
Well I’ve learned something for life and it’s not in small measure.
What’s life without people, when it’s people that are the pleasure.
Loot, 2020
If you would like to make a recording of this poem, click here to find out how.
More people are writing and thinking about work based poetry. Does this poem make you think of anything? Send your thoughts to editor@workinwords.net
Please do send a poem you’ve written or one you like and we’ll share it with other WorkInWords readers.
'Other Words section'. Some of the authors on 'WorkInWords' also like to write about life outside work. We have a gathered a collection of their work alongside the wonderful words of other poets. Click to have a look.
Image credit: 'Being Alone' By Fatma Rahman