Lonely Sound
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Roaring into this night, whistle blowing as the train passes
by, it's lonely sound reaching the sadness that never leaves
my being.
Resting upon my mind, taking me into memories, reminding me
of a life that once upon a time I used to have and live to
the fullest.
Now just sitting on sidelines, all hope gone, along with the
promises that used to decorate this mind with an intense liv-
liness.
Walking into the mire of another day, all moments now being
jumbled in mixtures of indecision.
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