Imagine there no people, imagine

It would be a bare place, echoing to sounds of no child nor laughing mama nor the grandmama.
there would be no joy in the sound of the chirping of birds, the bubbling of waters deep.
No chuckle at the baby lambs nor the awkward knobbly foal.
there is no joy, in the heart and soul of a man without a man.
Imagine if there were no people, but imagine if there was only one?
ONe, to love, to cherish, care and love again.
Tis good.  Tis bad.
Does anyone see behind the specs of a plucky one?
Does anyone actually know who is at the end of a  minutes walk to the grasses waving in the breeze.
the lavenders now placed to line the porch.
It doesn't seem so.
Days pass, as days do.  Tonight we have a half moon, the buttery smudgy clouds drift slowly over and below.
below the moon, is an 18ft high wall and below that again is a small yard, a beautiful yard of greens and other.
within the walls beyond that are two sleeping white dogs, or hardly dogs to some.
to one, they are the soul companions.
the ones who share, unconditionally the caress of the ONE, who is alone.
When she lies in the dimness because Light hurts, in the stillness of no sound because sound hurts and on the softest materials she could find, because her skin hurts, she feels that silence in her red hot surrounding of the present colour.
The Soul hurts bad.
Who knows of me and who can ever see me?
When will another soul walk up that one minute avenue, because they want to?
they want to meet and greet and sup with the one who tries.
They most of all want to hug her through love not pity.
When one shuts the door again she knows so much.
that her family have not only used her but abused her, her family have suffered yes, but who in life doesn't?
But what family picks the one, and you are the chosen, to be beaten down so badly, even at the old age i am after a life of beaten down.
who in a family would leave another so alone without the love she yearns?
and who in a family would leave another alone with her only soulmate who is also hurting bad?
Who does scream and shout and lambast a sick person for her ideals or notice of realism, for the sake of pretentious honour?
Who wants to know, sickness, family, and one, a single one alone with no family bar one.
thus we have Imagine, if it could be different.
I now look up at the half moon, the sleeping dots of fur, the redness of the fluffy bedcover and cushions.  I feel.  I also feel ...sadness....stillness...sadness....stillness...I am alone.....again....