False smiles and unhappy laughter fill my world.
All the more, without you here.
Time ticks away, as I stare at the page before me,
drawing a blank with my mind.
As if all good and positive action,
has been stripped away,
I fritter and toil in such hopeless direction.
The day is dimmer, the night, colder.
The bitter chill of winter approaches,
to bite and gnaw at the bones,
of this already beaten, dead horse.
Forward movement seems crippled,
nearing a halt.
