to marcy howard
The phone’s grown silent, no life within,
As the shades are drawn, and the light, grows dim,
Darkness brings, the sleepless night,
The heart’s defense, for the coming light.
Dreams, do not happen, thr sun is gone,
Yet we pretend, there’s nothing wrong,
The monster stirs, accustomed, to pain,
As your heartbeat quickens, love’s passing lane.
From life and family, to love and hope,
But with withdrawal, what helps you cope,
Though thought, transports you, to where, do you go,
As the pain, restrains you, from the real show.
There is, a prison, within, these walls
Without the bars, without the calls,
One thing, shines through, makes, my heart true,
Love, is the food, which I eat, with you.