the line goes dead
and the world grows cold
with these trinkets of truth
so easily bought and sold
the room goes quiet
the world has grown still
but her mind just races
with thoughts she can't kill
loved ones and lost ones
untouchable faces
could'ves and should'ves
and last minute graces
searching a bottle for peace
she feels herself get weary
but sleep eludes her
no rest for the teary
tossing and turning
too many thoughts in her head
and morning comes quickly
in this sleepless bed
©2000 Kim Shaver
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© 2000 kimba22@earthlink.net
