Holed up in some darkened chamber
like a miser or some addicted gamer
and barely breathing the stagnant air
losing reason in a life unfair

He stews and sighs to pass the time
yet the clock stares him in the face
while he lets the day slip into his sublime
at the slowest possible pace

Somewhere dark eyes and deep
wandering through his heart they creep
just at the edges of all he knows
and with one thought his mind they keep

Dinner ordered with a side dish of pain
lays discarded on the tray table top
with feelings of sadness for the entrée slain
and no way to make his wheels stop