A long cold wind blows down the long brown hall.
The lights are dim. The night man gently paces.
And one by one we drift beyond brick walls.
We AWOL through our dreams and greet the faces
that make our stomachs sick with love and dread.
The lights are dim. The night man gently paces.
Outside our doors the floor creaks from the tread
of memories, like ghosts within the halflight,
that make our stomachs sick with love and dread.
We've eaten much, and yet there looms a hunger,
an emptiness that writhes amid the gloom
of memories, like ghosts within the halflight.
We stir the darkness in our broken rooms.
We're full, for we ate well to stuff our sorrows,
an emptiness that writhes amid the gloom.
The heater drones, yet chill seeps to the marrow.
A long cold wind blows down the long brown hall.
We're full, for well we ate to stuff our sorrows,
And one by one we drift beyond brick walls.
Adding your comment:
keep up the good work i am so glad i clicked on your name and found this exelent piece by reading your page 
looks real difficult...and I love that you write about a variety of things... you don't just stick to one thing like love or pain or whatever.... you write about cherry blossoms and thanksgiving... awesome 
