I sit here alone tonight and the only sound I can hear is the
slow beating of my own fragile heart. Taunting me, reminding
me again of a world which every day is swiftly passing me by.


I try to reach out to those I love and I find only empty space.
Wanting so much to be a part of their life but that is not to be.


They are not aware of the lonely heart which beats inside or of
the empty arms which once held them in a loving embrace. But
I must remain silent, to speak only invites more heartbreak in.


Society has forgotten me too. I can walk the streets unnoticed.
No nice smile exchanged or a warm greeting of hello as we pass.


Getting up early each day and I know I must sleep some tonight
if I am going to survive for long. But I wonder, survive for what?

Deep lines on my face are now matched in number by the gray
hairs, gone forever the long brown hair I had, now forgotten.


The silence of the night is briefly interrupted by the sound of
rain on the patio. I open the door and I can feel the coolness
of the night air caressing my body, inviting me to come out.


No reason for me to worry if there will be a knock at the door.
I slowly go back in the house, sitting again in my rocking chair.
Waiting through the day, patiently. What is it I am waiting for?


The sound of your sweet voice calling me to come home to you.
Speak softly, my love for I welcome death’s warm embrace now.
To finally be free and to be held gently in your arms once more.

© Brenda Sparkman
June 12, 2007