My sorrow

At the window I had houses on my mind, I can see footsteps haunting me again and again. I watch lights, pens and toothpicks walking. A constant pounding and a quick search. Nothing. A frozen image of a magical forest, and a book of JRR Tolkien.
Suddenly I wake up and all the mistery seems to fade away. My room is empty and black. I step down and start to scream for help. Not a single noise. No answer. Negativity is always present in my life. As beeing lonely.


A life of loneliness is made of stars and moons, a bit of clouds and a small touch of sun. And the sun is human company. Decent company please.



And the road is filled with white paint.
And I try hard to be nice to people and not express my sorrow.