Empty Hours Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Gathered together, people interacting and communicating,
filling empty hours so as not to be alone at home.

Being here for one another, knowing somewhere in the
back of their minds that best friends may be gone within
minutes of leaving one another.

Scary, unwanted thoughts preying on minds as they quietly
reach out and talk about anything else.

Sitting silently on sidelines the grim reaper awaits their
presence to bring them to another horizon beyond us all.