Loneliness
It has it's way
of sneaking up on you
at the most inconvenient times
At day break
In the middle of the day
At dusk
In the middle of the night
It has no cares - loneliness
Oh, those Sunday mornings
you wish to just lay there in bed
and hold the one
Touch Them, ever so slightly
arouse, ever so shyly
the one
Feel the warmth of the arms
the slight shiver of the body
hear the low moan of pleasure
of the one
that isn't there
next to you
Its hard sometimes
to lie awake alone
knowing that they
are out there
wondering if they
are thinking of you
Time never runs as slowly
as the time spent alone
11-`8-06 Dene Whelchel
