deepundergroundpoetry.com

No One

The fan blades
cycle old air through the stale room,
cooling a person
who isn’t there.

A clock
screams out the time in green block letters,
shouting
at no one and nothing.

Two lamps
spread their light over a room,
illuminating objects
that have no one to look at them.

A phone,
Ringing on the bedside table
Asks to be answered
And is greeted with nothing

A car,
Three miles away,
Is wrapped around a telephone pole.
There was someone there this time.
Written by flightlessangel97 (Autumn Day)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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