The Room Knows My Name

oãoj enitnatsnoc



 

 

Loneliness knocked once.

 

I opened the door.

 

Nothing.

 

Just the smell of rain,

old cigarettes,

and a chair

that had been waiting for me

longer than God.

 

I sat down.

 

The room said nothing.

 

That was the cruelest part.

 

enitnatsnoc oãoj



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.