Locked and shut

The wooden table stretches out across the dead room full of pictures
and memories hung from the wall. and then i hear him calling ,
i hear him reaching out to me like he was stranded, staring at a mirage,
lost in false contentment,with a mask covering his face trying
not to show his true emotions, they're jailed inside his tormented mind
I lower my hand and rest heavily on his shoulder , passing on the burden
slowly and unwillingly admitting defeat, the battle is lost
and so is the war, his eyes trying to touch the floor with a pen in his
palm filling out another prayer, another disenfranchised soul that knows
when its enough. What to do now? he asks. i wish i knew i reply.
I can't go back , but its too hard. i know , i know. The doors are all locked
and even the windows are shut, no ones getting out alive, not tonight.
He stands up and leaves, and i'm there putting out the flames in his ashtray
I sit on the wooden table and stare at nothing and as the lights go down
my thoughts begin to haunt me, all this pressure piling inside my head
i'd rather run away instead. but the doors are all locked and even the
windows are shut , no ones getting out alive , not tonight.
Something tells me its not over yet, its barely begun, we'll have this
conversation once again, cuz this struggle is not done and it wont be long
until i see him trying to touch the floor without pride or shame,
i can only contemplate from afar watching from left to right , the memories
on the wall, the remains of a previous life.