Here I am sitting,
When will Love come to knock on my door?

I've been in this room awhile,
my **** is getting sore.

I examine the stone floors and all the cracked paper walls.
It seems Love has forgotten about me here after all.

I've been here awhile,
I know this room front to back.

It's my comfort, my world, my straight driven track.
Even if Love were to knock on a Tuesday afternoon,

I don't know if I could let him into my room.
The floors aren't perfect I haven't shined in weeks,
the walls are made of plaster and the paint job's in streaks.
The molding is crooked and the floor makes some squeaks.
I have a bowl in the corner catching the ceiling leak.

I've been waiting for love for so very long
that when love comes knocking;

I'll want to leave.

And it's hard to believe
because I don't know what lies out of this space,
and his could be one that is not of my taste
what room will we make?

Love knows best..