i am upset with the fractions that remain

time has come and gone again
leaving me here, all alone.
the clocks chime and sing
songs of praise for the ones
who have somewhere they belong.
for the rest of us it's annoying
as those bells remind in
depth that there ain't a thing
i can do to find love in another
person's home, no there can't
ever be a key that may belong
to me, that fits nicely on a chain
that i carry around deep in-
side the pockets of these jeans
i have worn almost out, denim thin
and wearing out to that of nothing.
but darling, my love, my darling
you are pale as i have been-
do you think as i do, as i imagine
one day you'll be healthy once again?
if i brought you soup and rest and
sleep to your manic head, your brain
so sporadic you scream out in silence
at the world you see before you, wondering
with feet that pace relentlessly in
your mothers home, do you think we can
ever return to that time when we were young?
before we realized in unison
we will never share a home or a house even.
i just shuffle through these days on
calenders like if i do nothing long
enough it'll be all the way it was when
i was a child, a young boy, still shy of a man.
now i stare at cemetery's and wonder more often
than i probably should, 'how peacefully those
coffins do look, would you lay with me, down
in the ground that looks cold but mustn't
be, no it must be warm to keep those human
corpses comfortably still, silent and numb."