Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2015
Loneliness...

Before supper I have to go and end it,
He's tall with brown eyes and curly hair,
Halfway through the day you stare at me
A solemn silence in the thick cold air,
He's got olive tan skin, below the lips a scar,
Just at the chin sharp as one who's fallen,
Somewhere below sub-par, not too far,
He's a born fool, I made myself the victim,
At best he must just be a beady eyed guy,
Now he just stares up at the colorful sky,
Things could have been groovy but why,
Why oh why do *I have too much time?

He always wants to have more,
I live for you, he's born to wine,
Time for parting so close the door.

...and I've got to end it, although I've lived alone,
He's the only person I've really ever known,
The only one here in this blank walled room,
If I have to I will make sure it's done soon,
The time has come to bid them adieu,

I've known him all of my life until this afternoon...
Alan S Bailey
Written by
Alan S Bailey  M/Unlisted
(M/Unlisted)   
586
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems