Chances Are

Chances are I’ll awake tomorrow feeling
the same seclusion which engulfs me now
And if you could see me cry to a darkness
that doesn’t care, you’d be with me now
For a weak heart is, by every measure,
incapable of realizing
what its waking wish may be
So, wherever you happen to be tonight,
I hope that something makes you miss me
May you know that heartache is
being lost in a place you’re familiar with;
utterly lost
All that you cry, without a goodbye, is gone;
breeding broken dreams like frost
Chances are I’ll be here tomorrow,
just waiting for chances to heal this heart
And there’s no sense in me calling you,
for you made the choice that’s left us apart
So go ahead, be alone; go and become a
who-knows-what, who-knows-where
For, I believe, chances are you’ll come back
broken, teary-eyed, and expecting me to care

Poetry from Thought-Box by Shane Windham
E-book and paperback now on Amazon.com

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