the weather suits my mood
i stare at the television
i pick over my food
i get caught in the darkness
of this, my deepest mood
life, suddenly the harshest light
and it starts to intrude
i linger over the telephone
i sit and I brood
i think I would rather be alone
but I know how much people care
and i know I need them
so I ache to have them there
but I know I am no company
just me and my thoughts
a lucky dip of insanity
the weather suits my mood
memories seem like a splinter
each coming with a little pain
in this cold cold winter
James Garratt – Monday 1st December 2008
The Boy Behind The Glasses. Poetry and Writing 