Nobody Comes. By CpSingleton © 2016
There’s a man I know in limbo town
Who sits quietly waiting for a visit, but
It’s maybe not a big thing for those on the other side.
They make their excuses as they climb into their cars
To drive off to other’s doors,
Quite forgetting the sacrifices made,
Never seeing the tears spilt in the heavy silence of Sunday and
Blissfully unaware of the black curtain that falls across tired eyes.
Each new week and month passes slowly to find a new piece crack and fall and gather at the bottom of the mediastinum and
I tell him to let go.
That he needs to realise it’s not personal.
He says to wait until it happens to me.
That I’m to remember him when I begin to stare at phones that don’t ring and doors that never open and then I will know that
Nobody will ever come.