As You Lay On Solitude

Somehow,
you already made your choice
when you slammed the door
in the face of your own irony
this closed off room –
filled with token games
mockery….
and scorn.

But what about the tears
when they roll down….
consequences cheek
like a repetitious singer
who always sings the blues.

You forget about those people
all those left behind
a crowded room of sorrow
you say aren’t worth your time
not even the old soldier –
who dies in the end.

So have you ever seen the darkness
as you lay on solitude
a bed that’s far too worn
a pimp or prostitute
of friendships now forlorn.

But we still think of you
and wonder –
did you ever open up a new door
where an old friend lives
who despite the other people
he let you in
because he knew the cold of winter
and seen the change of warmth –
in you.