Without you

You don’t come here anymore

I wait inside and watch the door

Sitting, writing, standing still

Looking, hearing, in a haze

No one comes to me today

Or any day at all

I think back to another day

A day before it happened

I saw sunshine

I ran and ran

Into the showers of people

Busy times, a feel of comfort

Until the darkness came

Engulfing me in isolation

A sad spot behind a curtain

A damp patch below the drip

A repetition in a drop

I grip into my memories

Seeing only outside looking in

They look and stare, I don’t begin

I sit inside and watch the door

You don’t come here, anymore


About Lindsay Craik

Writer & Poet Poetry, plays and short stories
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