The Inertia of Loneliness

Days of longing, days alone, hours and hours spent on you own days of dreaming still alone anxious just to hear the phone. Nights are sleepless, endless too, the rooster's call long overdue, the noise unwelcome when first heard, that slave to time, punctilious bird with undue timing breaks the dream, the one with hope to make it seem much better, but purports to fake a false pretender when you wake. For what was there is still in view, you dream and dream but never do. Days of longing, days alone, hours and hours spent on your own, nights of waking, nights in thought, hours and hours that come to nought.