for once there was

a darkness fell upon the room;
the sound of crickets all around —
the sweat that poured into his eyes
he wiped away, amid the gloom

he heard the distant rumble small
of trucks upon the highway near;
and checked the time – again, again –
to see if it had moved at all

for once there was a pyramid
of cans and bottles on a shelf;
for once there was another man,
a different guy, another self

who looked a lot like younger me;
but that could not have been, somehow —
for i had nothing, nothing then:
and i have all the answers
now

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure. View all posts by Beleaguered Servant