Nothing                                                         (March 5, 2000)

There is nothing I can do,
there is nowhere I can go
to find one bit of salvation
from this overwhelming feeling
of being all alone.

The clock shows no remorse,
the calendar no compassion;
both keep busy with their jobs
while just ignoring me.

The day keeps marching on
and one becomes battalions
of sad-eyed loneliness;
days and weeks and months
all lined up in neat rows
staring back at me.

The silence of this room
mocks his twin inside my heart;
meanwhile my mind moves in circles
like goldfish in a bowl.

No beauty inspires me today,
no voice calls out my name,
no gentle hand reaches for mine;
no eyes, no mouth, no skin, nothing,
except the thoughts here on this page.
Poetry

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