This Way

Copyright © September 7, 2003 by Richard J. Sereday Jr.
All rights reserved

A heart filled with heartache
knows no sanctuary,
as my mistakes scratch at my being. 

The fallen tree makes not a sound,
nor was one heard at the falling time,
as no ears beseeched it's announcement.   

The passenger arrives to empty station,
train gone down the track, 
as my whistle cries out your name.

In a crowded room with not thee by side,
hollow sounds of emptiness resound.

The hand not filled,
the heart not filled,
the life not filled with love, 
long gone by fault of own.

Self slow to know.
Just watched it go,
and to I know not where.

These are the ways of the world.
This is the way of my life.
No one to blame but this way.