Whenever I think of you, you are alone

Whenever I think of you, you are alone,
Shut by yourself between
Great walls of stone.
There is a stool, I think, and a table there,
And a mat underneath your feet;
And the rest is bare.
I cannot stop remembering this, my own,
Seventeen hours of the day
You are alone.

poem by Lesbia Harford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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