The Arms of Loneliness
The arms of loneliness hold me tightly.
Protecting me from any chance of happiness.
It’s fingers caress me. A gentle reminder
of what love was like.
It lays upon my body at night,
and makes me sweat.
It wasn’t my choice for a lover, but
steadfastly it stands by my side.
It kisses me on the forehead each morning,
letting me know,
it’s just another day,
and it’s just the two of us.
Hand in hand we trudge through each new dawn,
and I know that it will always make sure
my tears will be replenished.
Copyright © Cheryl Ann Ross | Year Posted 2006
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