To wish upon an angel

 

Billy sits

where he sits most days,

invisible to most,

just sunk into place.

The path of least resistance.

He just sits in compliance,

completely in silence

as his days pass aimlessly.

 

Head down,

fixates on the ground

in his own private hell.

Billy avoids the feet all around.

He never lifts his gaze,

for seeing eyes can see in

and see the nothing

he believes is him.

 

He slouches. His stance

looks older than his years.

He tries to become small,

foetal position would be perfect,

for then feral hive mind of a world

would not see him.

Thoughts drift from melancholy

into wispy melodies,

and he writes the words in his notepad,

hidden so no-one can see.

 

For he longs

to hear the wordless song

of an angel

sung on the station air,

as he would pray to her,

to let his words become

the lyrics to the tune.

In his heart that barely

moves from its seat

he knows that he will

not hear that beat.

 

Outside the night starts to fall

and as he whispers his nightly wish

a shooting star sparkles

for just a brief kiss of time

before sending out ripples

through the cosmos,

like an invisible shock wave

cascading towards a beach.

 

To Be Continued...