The hermit lives alone

No computer, no internet, no phone

He lives up there in his wood

Having left the city for good

Long ago when things were new

And his dislike of society grew

His wife was gone

His kids moved on

And so the hermit went

To his wood where he has spent

Day after day

Building in his way

A place not only to survive

But also to thrive

For being alone did not bother him

Out here he could follow any whim

The only things he has to do

Are those that will see him through

No boss, no bills, no cars

No more  loud city bars

All he has is his journal

In which he records every kernel

Of knowledge he acquires

So that whenever he requires

He can look back

Whenever his memory lacks

And remember what he needs

So he can do his daily deeds

And the hermit lives alone

He doesn’t need a phone

If he requires entertainment

He just heads down to his basement

Grabs one of his books

And heads down to the brook

Where he sits and reads

Till in his mind he sees

Adventures from long ago

 

I envy the hermit who lives alone

No computer no internet no phone

One day I may join him up in his wood

Leaving these cursed cities behind for good

For I tire of things that are new

And my distaste of our society has grew

Out of words of hate

That wont abate

And people who are blind

Who find it hard to find

The magic of the wild

And wont be reconciled

With the those who disagree

I sit here and I see

All that’s wrong

And it feels so long

Since I was truly free

To do what I would do and be who I would be

Instead if tried to conform

To break out of my norm

And yet its hard for me

This is not who I'm meant to be

I don’t dance like that

As a mater of fact

I feel like I was born out of my time

So I sit here and I rhyme

About the hermit and his home

Where he lives all alone

And I empathize

For I recognize

The same longing in my soul