Sedentary currents curl around me,
A cold cloak, of autumn air.
Bare and prone,
I moan in the chilled chamber.

I reach out with my voice,
Sending shouts stumbling down the corridors,
Pleas bracing themselves on the jagged walls.
For a blanket or a warm body, I beg blindly.

A man devoid,
Of charms worthy of mention
Need not grasp hope,
When all he is destined is sorrow.

There are so many others,
Better in every way, fulfilled,
While I waste away.
Never deemed worthy of respect.

Why are my lips never first,
Always the dregs dug up, and laughingly displayed,
To show my low status,
My insignificance and lack of talent.

I just want
A blanket
And
A warm body beside me.