Spiders At Night

She is miles away

in this tiny

little

bed

I toss and turn

stranded,

in her web

I reach out

into the void

where true love

once lay,

and touch

the cold sheets

of deceit.

Another fool,

as the Spider

makes me her

Prey.

I turn and face

the window

and watch

as the black becomes grey..

"good morning," she says.

"good morning," I say.

*********************************************************************

This poem was written many moons ago. I figured it better to be here then shoved in a droor full of papers.

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