Poem new 3

One Last Cigarette

Its four in the morning
I cant fall asleep,
I haven't seen
My dreams in weeks,
And the bed is still
The way it was,
When you left me
On a greyhound bus.

Silence resonates
Through my quiet home,
Leaving me with
Your picture all alone,
And I can still hear
The last words you said,
Go back to sleep
I'll be right back to bed.

Now the days are hard
And so unkind,
Giving me so many things
I dont want to find,
Though the sky is clear
It seems so dark,
With a weeping mind
And a bleeding heart.

The silence grows
Through the night,
I think I catch you
In my sights,
But its just a shadow
A trick in my head,
I cant sleep
In this lonesome bed.

I wonder where
That greyhound went,
And of my money
You must have spent,
You took it all
And ran away,
I dont think I'll make it
Through another day.

Silence is so loud
In my head,
I'm going to burn up
This lonesome bed,
I didnt see
Which way you left,
But you left me cold and alone,
With one last cigarette.

Blaine McCanless