The Last Room On The Right Poem by James Casey

He hears the drip of melting snow on the window pane at night
He's a restless boy left to sleep in the last room on the right.
The dripping is the only sound, though his mind is terribly loud
With prospects of his future, covered completely by a dark cloud

Relentless tears, seen only by him, are always shed in vain,
All those around him do nothing to ease the terrible pain
Why has he been left behind? , all his family has gone away
Bitterness accompanies him, everywhere, all night and every day

He goes outside among the bare, grayish - ghostly trees
He lets the icy cold touch his skin, while in this winter breeze.
He lets the frozen, compacted snow hold him up on bare feet.
He ponders life and wonders why he feels so incomplete

He sheds more tears for life and death in a world of pain and despair,
Still there is no relief, no change to what has happened, or how many care
He ponders whether to sit and wait for the cold to seal his fate
Should he stay here in this snow, accept defeat, until it is too late

The ice offers no solace, only the stabbing pain in his feet
Up to his ankles, on to his thighs, he must not accept defeat
He will not let them conquer him on this the coldest night
He returns to his solitary room to continue on with his fight

Jim 1951