They have gone, along with their laughter
which permeated throughout the house.
Now there is only a piercing silence
as that of an unwanted church.
The do not know the void they have left,
and if they did
it would be of no significance to them.
I dare not tell them of the love I feel,
their irritation would be obvious. The erosion of self-pity devours me
as I pace these empty rooms. But wait!
Escape is near.
the insidious charm of television beckons.
I crawl upon the couch
and is hypnotic beam enshrouds me; but the emptiness remains.

by Christine E. Maylath

Other poems of CHRISTINE E. MAYLATH (2)

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