The lights of this hotel room leave too many dark spaces.
I draw open the curtains to let the outside light in and to take a look
It’s an overcast day, cold and grey out there and the wind appears to be howling
I stand there gazing out of the window with a feeling of emptiness
Its brought on by this day, this place, this life
I can understand why hotels are a common place for suicide
The walls feel nothing and gives nothing, they reek of loneliness and despair
It only makes the struggle that much more real
The trees bear no leaves this time of year, the landscape shows no sign of life or happiness.
I want to punch the window out and scream to the world. But i know they will not hear me.
It is this silent storm that churns within me, I find no comfort
This room defines me, its hard to explain who you are
Something as used and as plain as this hotel room
It has nothing to give and it receives nothing
I feel that I have become hollow
A smile is but an echo it has no foundation and is not genuine
(I wrote this bit while spending two weeks in Kansas City. The winter months can be quite gray there.)