The Phone
The phone rings empty into the night.
Filling a void that brings strange comfort
to thoose around.
Rage eats away untill it bores a hole
straight through are hearts.
Whiskey cauterizes the wound.
Alone with fools we gather.
The bitter ones taking to there barstools.
the weak look to punish thoose happy
bastards.
Who dare to feel anything in the place of
emptyness.
She left so many years befor.
At least her mortal soul did.
I rememeber when it was when I still
dared to dream.
Long befor reallity was a friend.
Lovers lie.
Motions keep us living.
She spoke but the words were empty as her heart.
So as strangers we parted just as we met.
With a bitter taste I never did reply.
The phone rang it's last time.
I herd it echo farewell down the hall.
I had to go so I never unlocked the door.
i just left my emotions hanging like some
forgotten coat pushed back in
the closet.
Its been almost a year since that phone filled
the emptyness of my soul.
If only I had answered.
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