Sitting alone in the corner chair-
just smoking cigarettes;
the music plays in this empty room,
and speaks to me i'm sure.
Every song that i hear could be written for me-
the words narrate my life;
lending advice and a helping hand,
to see me through the night.
Shadows appear on the wine stained wall-
they're creeping past the smoke;
the candle's alive as the wind gets in,
beneath the kitchen door.
I know i'm alone but there's something strange-
it feels like someone's here;
an unseen force envelopes me,
i sense a loving feel.
Could it be true that she's following me-
and trying to explain;
i'm sad and i'm glad and i'm all mixed up,
i wish i knew for sure.

A dramatic poem that I admire!
Ah, the mystery unfolding here.












10 old applause
