He waits, expectantly, by the door,
Loneliness, that unwelcome boor
And speaks gently, through the mist
“Are you sure, I haven’t been missed?”
Images engulf me – of loneliness, myself and me
He advances; an old sign of empathy…
“I’m not alone now, so why are you here?”
“Not alone don’t mean you’re not lonely.”
I almost let him in: loneliness that sneaky fiend
But the mist, it clears, and from within,
You emerge, fighting the mist and my fears
And I’m so grateful, baby, that you're here.
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