Somewhat lonely, somewhat bored, I pause for a moment to tug the cord,
Of an unused curtain in an unused room, where I thought I might rest til noon,
And as I tug this thick red cord, but who should come rapping upon my door,
A blast of sunlight might herald his arrival, but mine eyes were too dim for survival,
I flop into the chair and there I sat until once again, he began to tap
"I't's open, come in." I deigned to call, he seemed surprised, I heard him stall,
Slowly the door creaks open to reveal, a young man standing in pale congeal,
The boy he stood and stared, not making a sound, until I said "Hyde, that's my dressing gown."
The boy he blushes and smiling slightly, he steps inside, quietly, politely,
I made room for him to sit beside me, and there we doze til half past three,
I must admit to me he is rather dear, for me to let him sit so near,
And doze whilst sitting on my lap, something that has often brought a gap
'tween me and any other lover, the ability to sit and be with one another,
No tension, no fear, just holding him near,
I think "Is this love?"...
But then we dissapear...
I am a social hermit, and a workaholic.