And I Was Alone

The feelings sparked by being alone, are very vivid and striking.

First you feel a sort of power as you trick yourself into believing that you are alone because you wish to be, But later these lies you have forged fall apart and you begin to ask yourself, "Why am I alone." "Is it because my hair is short. Is it because my nose curves the slightest bit to the left, our maybe it's my poor complexion?" You end up making a list of your faults, and slowly dwell on them, focusing in on every minor detail. As the days go on you tell yourself that you are ugly, that you are no one. There are a million different stories you tell yourself, to try to make yourself believe it's you. Everybody goes through a form of this, Look at Edgar Allen Poe and some of his poems, such as: "City by the Sea" , "Alone", or "A Dream within a dream". Poetry or more specifically Angst offers a relief from this. It offers an escape when there is no way out.

It creates a vacuum, which you then use to "pick up the pieces." Angst is a rather elaborate, rather personal form of writing, and in my opinion is one of the truest forms of poetry their is.