empty (04/17/95)
staring at the ceiling fan
going around and around
i feel so empty inside
like nothing really matters
(nothing means a thing)
when everything i ever wanted
everything i ever fought for
is gone and here i am
alone with nothing to show for my love
in this empty room
except for my anger
building inside me
with no way of venting it
(and no one to listen)

i yell at the impassive sky
fists clenched in rage
"why have you done this to me?"
you gave me all i ever wanted
all i ever needed
then took it away
making me feel like a child
who has been sent to his room
by his mother
with no dinner

i feel no hope
nothing ever changes
the winds blow
and the lines blue
but i'm always alone
so fucking alone
with this pen in my hand
and this hate in my heart

poetry
joseph c hinson