It was a day
Idle in life
Sunlight blocked
Thoughts in strife
A shaking hand
Fingers nicotined
An empty bottle
A glass uncleaned.
An ashtray
Which overflowed
Half cigarettes
Like stubbed toes
A clinging sweat
From wheezing chest
Blood shot eyes
Very little left.
A day in which
The towers fell
The castle walls
Became a self made Hell
Waiting for
A little hope
A sign of peace
A chance to cope.