Silver cups and saucers whistle
When they’re filled with wine.
I don’t like their lonely lovesongs,
Cry with every line.
Harmonise with forks and knives.
Do they ever keep in time with me?
No never.
Wait with baited breath upon
The guests who wont arrive.
Face so red, I eat their bread
As they eat my time.
Harmonise in white and black.
Dignity be given back to me?
No never.
Predictably the clock becomes
The ever present theme.
Blinking with the rhythmic tick
I fall into a dream.
Everyone I love was there,
Empty rooms and lonely chairs love me.
Forever.
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