Him indoors

Hiding from the world, closing curtains on the longest day.
You'll see me when I find a voice and not before, I fear.
It is hard to be heard over the thunderous racket
of a crowded world gone crazy, so down hearted I'll stay.

I am not afraid to say "the door seems too far a stretch".
But it gets caustic inside these constant walls and windows,
the air growing stagnant with wasted, stale ambitions
that will never get to see the light of summer solstice.

It gets harder to remember my lost vitality,
the exuberance of a once creative mind - now fogged.
Here I am beyond the sunset, beneath the moon and stars,
Anchored still, here I remain, dejected, jaded and dry.