with It
done caring at all
waiting
checking
hoping
when nothing
Flies
just the cobwebs
off the ceiling
falling
glazed eyes
from staring
getting up each morning
fighting hard
nothing to materialize
what’s the use
why do I try
to fail
to get it right
to do something
with this time
I feel empty
as all the shoes
in my closet
just like my lines
that wait for me
to slip into them
one at a time
with nowhere
to go