Tom Bell Poet Bio

Waking Up To Reality

I awoke,
Disoriented,
Lost in time,
Through the magic 
power of dreams,
It's near Christmas,
There's no pine scented tree,
No presents to wrap,
No one to bake cookies for,
Alone,
Except for the eternal pain,
Of these old bones,
Once strong
Where the happiest day of the year,
Has slipped into the past,
And the saddest day of the year,
To suffer alone, but with my memories...
All the more painful,
By the contrast,
Of the happiness of the past...
The past....has past...
It's left me here...
All alone...
To see how long I'll last.

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