The lights are on but no one is home and the night is still. The quietness is the loudest sound and the clamor of the clock ticks away. . .There is nothing left to gain, nothing left to lose. The crashes become more intense as the minutes creep by I was wondering could this be a dream? Are we all awake here? This isn’t a nightmare, or could it be? Blank stares at the television. . .pictures of destruction and dysfunction is all anyone is after but how did it come to be like this? Where is the love that needs to spread from this disease we call life. . .it’s ever growing, ever passing by and the days don’t slow down and we’ll never know why. . .why the pain is easier to swallow or the hurt is something we all learn to live pass. . .why we can’t conceive the notion that everything is possible but yet we believe everything we see without researching the facts and so we never ask the right questions because the lights are on but no one is home. Breathe in and breathe out, there’s a low tone and tempo, suggestions about life, who is wrong and right and what is real and who is not. . .too much drama to understand. . . why complaining doesn’t get us any further because a closed mouth doesn’t get fed but saying too much might get you killed but being silent can destruct you too. . .silence it seems so loud, the dreams are vivid . . .colors of life piece of mind, peace of the night and tranquility to follow until the daylight because the lights are on but no one is home.