Look who hasn't been here in forever and is a dirty slacker? That would be me. Naturally, alone in a hotel room in a city that faintly terrifies me, I feel inspired to write poetry.
Obviously I need a new muse.
On to the poetry...
Hello
Is an echo down a long,
Half-empty
Hallway
After green eyes
And musician's hands
As he walks on,
Oblivious to
Important things, like
Existence and
My smile.
Goodbye
Is a sigh
In the wake of
The click
A door makes
When it closes
For
The last time
Behind
Green eyes
And musician's hands
That play
The only song
I will ever hear.
