Black

Darkness falls as the wind picks up, winding its way through the broken windows.

Memories in faded ink on yellow paper get rustled...

The empty cans of beer in the corner clatter about, stirring the crumpled man on the floor...

There is no light, there never was, just a black winter night...

The throbbing pain in his head needs some balm,

He gets up... falls, tries again to no avail... it's just beyond him now

So he lies there, waiting for the morrow or the next

Maybe someone will come, maybe just...

.... Red