A Thousand Hours

By Cliff Lake

A Thousand Hours

 

Wandering through this town like some gray untouching ghost,

Reaching out and feeling nothing where I reach out most.

Working too many extra hours when I am already through,

Failure a constant companion because I failed to hold you.

 

Trying to teach myself how to forget your name.

Trying to teach myself how others play the game.

Trying to keep myself from going completely mad,

Trying to retrieve something I know I never had.

 

The days are filled with a thousand hours,  

And there’s nothing I can do.

The nights are filled with a thousand faces,

But not a one of them is you.

The city has a thousand streets,

Leading no longer to your door,

I talk to a thousand people,

‘Cause you don’t listen any more.

 

I’m an aimless wanderer in this trackless waste,

I am a gourmand of food that hasn’t any taste.

Watching a television that I will never see,

Nothing will ever penetrate this cloying misery.

 

The days are filled with a thousand hours,  

And there’s nothing I can do.

The nights are filled with a thousand faces,

But not a one of them is you.

The city has a thousand streets,

Leading no longer to your door,

I talk to a thousand people,

‘Cause you don’t listen any more.

 

Cliff Lake 12/16/1995

Copyright © Clifford Lake 1995

Location: Pittsburg, KS 66762, USA

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