original poems by john allen
I awake in the cold, dark night,
the walls glowing in the soft moonlight.
An empty space lies by my side.
So empty since the day you died.
I awake to the morning light,
to find the room harsh and bright.
The bed beside me is still cold,
the way it will be until I'm old.
I sit down to lunch alone.
No one here. There's no one home.
An empty chair sits mocking me.
"This is the way it's going to be."
Dinner comes, I cook for one.
The meal drags on until I'm done.
Nothing breaks the quietness.
Nothing eases my loneliness.
I approach the empty bed,
thoughts of you in my head.
I slip beneath the cold covers,
colder than when we were lovers.
Sleep never comes very easily.
The sandman seems quite miserly.
All I can do is simply endure.
For this, there is no easy cure.
I awake in the cold, dark night...
© John Allen - 2008