ALONE

I think I know what she does at night.

Her curtains aren�t fully shut

and I can see enough to think

I know what goes on after dark.

She thinks there�s no one there to see

nor should there be above the street

but I�m afforded a good view

or good enough to guess, I think.

She sits at home at night alone

With no one in the world to care

If she drinks, or eats or breathes

again or ends in sad despair.

She cries, I think, upon her bed

Presuming no one knows at all.

In silence, sitting, waiting and

she doesn�t realize that I�m there.

If I�d see her on the street

I�d let her know what I suspect

and tell her that she�s not alone.

She�s not. You�re not. I�m not.

We�re not.

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