Roof

One more cigarette,
Before I lay me down.
No voices,
No footsteps.
Just the eerie feeling
Of sleeping beneath
An unfriendly roof,
Painted with sorrow,
Overladen with grief.
A witness,
To a million nights
Of self-induced loneliness.
A witness,
To a river of tears,
Streaming gently down
From an isle of despair
Called the eyes.
A listener,
To untold stories,
A soul in search
Of a warm body,
That cannot be found
In a thousand daydreams,
Lying beside you,
Feeling your skin,
Healing the scars
Of your burned spirit.