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This Room

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I had missed this room

And the sound of the rain

 

I had missed this room

And all of its dark corners

 

I had missed the nights

Resting in this bed

Missed the lingering thoughts

On things now dead

 

I'd missed this soft cushion

Under my troubled head

 

I had missed this town

By night my loyal friend

 

That tonight weeps

Down my only windowpane.

 

There is no end

One more night of falling rain.

Comments (2)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

This poem sounds like it could be easily set to music. It flows well.

Joshua Hennen
This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

Thanks, I'll consider it

Raven
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