The poem feels a bit uncompleted, and I am not too sure about the last strophe, but hey, there's always room for another revision.
photo by sideshowmom
image from morguefile.com
sometimes i call out to her,
that it's time for meals,
but she's not here anymore,
some nights i pick food
alone off a pizza box,
the room hums in silence,
but not fully.
“That's the thing about pain...it demands to be felt.”
-- John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
Shared on Poetry Pantry #141 at Poets United.
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2013