Tuesday, August 24, 2010


© Gloria Smith 2010

Quiet desperation is all around
It is quite still and makes no sound
I sit in my uneasy chair and stare
While the walls stare back
Blank expressions, stark and bare
I care no more; a wounded soldier
In an endless war, in a foreign land
No hand is offered to help me stand
I am alone in an empty home
The coal black night pressing in
Like a hidden shame, a forbidden sin
I strain to hear the lonesome sound
Of a distant train on a far off track
As the rain pours down, down, down
Slowly I drown and there is no one here
No one near, and the train speeds on
As I sit still -- and the walls stare back

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