As the clock winds down upon the day
The sun slumbers into hues of gray
I tuck away my heart inside my coat
Start to read the letters that you wrote
The warmth it gives extend elsewhere
Beyond my window unto nowhere
Causing an eruption of stars upon a city
Like fireworks of beauty and complexity
Yet here I am still stuck in yesterday’s time
Empty handed with only a nickel and dime
My mirrors are empty of your reflection
Without you there is no way to perfection
The brush lay silent atop a dull palette
A broken easel lies a victim of a mallet
The phone seems distant and terrifying
Like the white canvass is not complying
I wish it would ring suddenly back to life
To hear your voice will end my strife
The colors will rush back into my hand
If you could only choose to understand
That falling stars are only pretty at night
But in the day they are hidden from sight
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In my home / Saturday
7:06 pm / 4 October 2014
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