The Box Is Empty

There's only one left and I'm lighting it
Breathing in its whisper and serenade
I was hoping for something more blissful
But tonight it's just darkness and heartache

I wrote you a letter of apology
It must have been three months or more
I'm tired of thinking that I'm running
From something I never knew before

Listening to The Black Keys in a minivan
Lost in the commotion of the interstate
It starts to seem like someone watching
But I realise I just left the stage

Wrap it all up and commercialise
The television prompter is petrified
The hardly dressed worker is mortified
All the middle-class women immortalized

Reviews

[x]

Hey, I enjoyed this. The first three stanza's were the best and sounded quite mopey, like one of those introspective moments when one feels separate from the world and the night is closing in. Nothing like a cool fresh night to give perspective. Jolly good write.