Every dying moment of every dejected day,
Perplexed he waits longing for this feeling to fade,
Yearning for something momentous to say,
Something that won't just grow fainter and die with ease away.
Every time upon entering his brightly coloured room.
He checks for any sign of her trying to get through,
On finding nothing he seeks the untrue,
Creating a fantasy only he has total access too.
Reality promptly inundates the distant reverie,
Converting his fake world into a lurid creed,
Obliterating all remnants of glee,
Leaving him broken beaten and crying for her to be.
In his failing endeavour he reaches for crucial aid,
Searching beneath like so many other lost days,
Desire has changed to addiction phase,
His fingers touch the casing of his liberating blade...
