'Waiting for morning'

Footsteps in the rain, echoing mournful, announce the arrival of a lonely man

No welcome awaits of arms and heart, only cold black windows and empty spaces

Remembered voices from rooms decorated in grief

Click, light, dim brightening yet dismal still

Food a requirement, no more

Tastes fled with happiness

Work a solace to be partly immersed no glory to share

thoughts mere echoes without comment

TV company inane, brief, radio voices talk amongst themselves

Bed a desert at night, no sleep thank God to dream and miss....

Waiting for morning and mourning, lost in an empty box