In the middle of the night when everything’s quiet and nobody is there to tell
Is when my mind drifts away to a land of forgotten summers and half lit pictures
Faded by the sun and its countless rises and fallings.
The clock ticks on the wall
Tick. Tock .Tick. Tock, Tick
The dog snores loudly on an armchair, stretching himself to fill all available space.
And then some.
The air is heavy with the stench of regret.
Of lost dreams and wasted moments
Of desperate quiet and the wish for solace.
The clock ticks on the wall.
