Thursday, 7 July 2016

Behind the door.

I heard a voice the other day,
Coming through the wall.
I heard the voice say,
It's over, no more.

I tried to stand waiting,
With your picture in my hand.
I try to be the man waiting,
The man that can't be moved.

No, light a fire and watch it burn,
Let the bridges turn to ash.
I will walk away and not return.
Strangers, again.