Half past midnight
His day begins.
His tread so quiet
As he walks through the night.
The darkness hides him.
All he has to confide in.
Goes to the 24 hour shop,
Gets a bottle of wine.
Maybe he will sleep tonight
Without the dreams.
The haunting discord
Of his past
Still screams.
He goes home,
Lies on the sofa
Without a glass;
Drinks from the bottle
And hopefully will pass out.
But because
He never does.