|
Empty
Rooms |
|
by W.F. Manchester |
|
| Alone, |
| With the stars my only companions, |
| I guide my body home to our
apartment, |
| But why I bother, |
| Not even the stars know. |
|
| Before the accident, |
| You would wait behind the door, |
| Looking for my face in the panes, |
| I remember how it would light up
when you saw me, |
| How my heart would rejoice at that
sight! |
|
| No smiling face to greet me now, |
| I peek around the door, |
| Hoping to see you, |
| But you have gone, |
| Glancing askance, |
| I sometimes see your shadow, |
| But never do I turn and see you, |
| And I am turning so often now, |
| I cannot distinguish the beginning
from the end. |
|
|
|