By T.K.
Date: 18 November 1998

At The Foot Of The Stairs

Curled up like a child…orphaned.
I reposed myself there for uncounted time.
With a heavy heart, I stared out the window,
looking at the outside world.  Just looking.
The world refused to supply the answers
to my pleading eyes and weary spirit.

I wished the tears would come.
A perverted comfort in a pointless action,
but a familiar comfort none the less.
Those exhausted emotions…
they produce nothing now
but a numb coma of sadness.

There I fell asleep, thinking of you,
As the rain pattered against the window.