Knocking On Deaths Door

I lie in here waiting still.
The clock ticks,
My heart beats,
My chest moves,
But, I’m dead inside.

I’m left with nothing.
There are only yesterdays,
That are blanketed with too many regrets,
And weighed down by too many sorrows.
The “what could-of-been, should-of-been” disease.

How long will my suffering go…
I’m waiting at deaths door,
Knocking ever so gently.
Delicately waiting for his arrival,
As I quietly tap my foot.

But that’s ok, My Dear…
Go ahead and take your time.
That’s all that’s left on these hands anymore, anyway,
And to be quite honest with you,
I can knock all day.

(Tap, tap, tap…)


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