How Em I Doin'
Cupboard is empty and the sink is full.
Crumbs on the counter and dust on the sill.
Blanket and pillows on the couch.
Heart and souls hollow like an empty pouch.
Trouble came knocking, so I locked the door.
It's the only company I get, I've become such a bore.
Daily calenders over a week behind.
The clock keeps ticking and tightens the bind.
How em I doin?
It's not hard to see.
From inside these walls.
Phones disconnected, so no one calls.
Some might think that's what I want.
But like others, I know how the past can haunt.
How ya doin?
They ask.
Just fine, I say, as I turn and run away.
To when times were simpler and only in my mind.
Blinds are drawn.
I barely know if it's dusk or dawn.
Climates at 68, don't know the season.
Goin outside, there seems no reason.
Modern invention tells me all that I could want to know.
But, doesn't fill my heart.
And leaves my room with such a dim dull glow.
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