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Addiction

Sitting at his desk typing away

nothing to think, nothing to say

his wife is worried – the dog is, too

he won’t go to sleep

it’s already two.

Morning fades to a blistering blue

not a hello or how are you.

He sits at his desk and types away

he doesn’t think, he doesn’t say.

 

Days decay and months bloom

all alone in an empty room

darkness sleeps with dust and gloom:

linens in a living tomb.

 

His love died a soundless sigh

too quick to say goodbye or why.

If he cried as he turned away

he doesn’t think, he doesn’t say.

 
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Posted by on October 8, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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