Sitting across from
Where she should be
I wonder just what
She finds wrong with me..

I look around at
All the empty chairs,
All I get are
Empty stares

No consoling glances
No pitiful muses,
Just an endless amount
Of meaningless excuses.

I look around
An empty room,
A grey blur
Of misery and gloom.

I keep hoping
for some contact made,
but it’s really just
A useless charade.

Sadness plays
all through my ears,
speaking clearly
Of my deepest fears.

I know that
I am not right
and that my soul
Is filled with fright.

And that my rage,
though my might,
provides to me
My greatest plight.


-The Speaker For Those Forgotten