I rise slowly from my bed,
Less than anxious to start a new day.
No one is there as I stumble awake,
Only the half-awake eyes in the mirror
Staring at a sad reflection.
I prepare myself for the day
Longing to see it end before it begins.
I no longer look forward
To any of the things I once enjoyed,
Because no one is there
To share them with me.
I spend each day in a daze
And each night I cry alone,
For no one is there to hold me.
March 7, 1984
© 2010 – 2013, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.