Count Me Out

In the silence of the day,
The clock tick
My only friend, and faux
The fur stirs upon my skin,
And the dumb calls
From out of sight,
Whispers of new worlds, on the other side
Of a still dark night.

Looking up at the mottled glass,
I paw the door, helpless;
Helplessly dreaming of a future,
Where this present
Is past, forgotten so much
Just a scar of a suture;
And in the rainbow glow
Of the mottled glass door,
I am all so utterly helpless.

The thick motionless air,
Sits sullen, and breathes
Life into this deathly scene;
And still I wait,
To take his place:
Is it not the other side,
That is said to be green?
But it always seems so, that
I am all so utterly helpless.