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It's quiet...too quiet

The tick-tock of an ancient grandfather clock
The drip-drop of a leaky faucet
Driving me to brink of insanity
A band of crickets play a horrid melody outside my window
Is anyone there?
Where did everyone go?
I laugh aloud at nothing in particular and wait
The notes of my voice rise to kiss the ceiling
Creating an illusion of a filled room
I stare at the white washed wall
Wishing
Hoping
Praying
To see someone
Anyone really
The white paint remains still and mocks my mournful mood
Leaving my heart hopeless for companionship



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