M T

Here is me, the empty self,
sitting on, an empty shelf,

An empty world, at my feet,
never leaving, my empty seat, 

sleeping, dreaming, empty dreams, 
recalling only, empty scenes. 

Looking at, the empty ceiling, 
I begin to have, an empty feeling,



 
Then I'm full, of emptyness, 
And my eyes are pulled, to the west, 

When night is met, and day is done
I look toward, the setting sun,

the awesome sight, fills my soul, 
the dying light, makes me whole. 

And then I wonder, how it felt,
sitting on, that empty shelf.
             
               2:28 AM 11/8/2003
                  s[[im