PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Half past midnight

and now the crow may cry

in a home so big to roam

but all alone each night

I walk the halls

checking each room

sitting on the floor

waiting, just waiting

for you but nothing more

sitting by the telephone

pacing restlessly

knowing sleep is impossible

without you here with me

lying on the itchy rug

my face as red as blood

waiting for the phone to ring

over the teary flood

crying out the loneliness

drowning out the pain

my heart beat matching the ticking clock

as your memory still remains

Now the sun is rising

striking seven o' one

and here I am still sitting

even though you're gone