It sits
and waits
And
weeps beneath the sofa.
Tears
flood the pile
Spilling
forward into light
It
waits.
Crying
tears of salted pain
Alone
beneath the sofa,
Peering
into the light
It
squints.
Tears
of Death
Roll
down its face,
Burning
runnels in the skin
Until
they drip
And
find the floor
Charring
as they fall.
It
hides.
Sallow
cheeks, dull eyes
Light
had left so long ago,
Receiving,
never giving.
No
sense of right,
No fear
of wrong.
Emotions dying every moment.
Forlorn
for wanting,
So it
weeps.
And
waits to die.
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