The door was barred every night. A weapon at the ready. The moon did no come this night. But your hand and sleep were steady. The bed was warm and rumpled well. You stared t the ceiling thinking all was well. But. No one came. No one came. The world had forgotten you. Your goods too old. You grip on humanity to worn and frayed. When’s the last time you’d been laid? No hope for you! You’re coffin bound. The smallest task too hard. To earth and ground. Who do you kid now? In an empty square of potter’s soil. Where’s the sense to life. It is such a bore. They’ll come for you tonight. You’re sure of that. Laying under someone else’s covers. In that silly hat! But no one comes my friend. No one comes. And you are left to wait. To suck your thumb. You lay awake and count the times. You count your promises. And weave your rhymes. Monotony and repetition. Monotony and constant perdition. You’ve had enough! You can’t stand the faucet’s drip. Well past midnight. The drub and duff. No one came tonight. No one came! You’ve lost all your charm. Not one left to call. So little there to blame. Your weapon’s ready! You can aim it at the Sun. To point it at your expectation. But unfortunately there is none. However did it come to this? However! However now. However is a senseless word. You’re in the here and now. The night’s still ready. But no moon has deigned to come. No invaders took your bedroom. No fatal meeting done. You’re alone now. Absolutely irreparably so. The world’s out there my friend! But you’re no longer in any shape to know.