Vacant Walls & Tv Waves Poem by William Mowell

It's 12: 30 Friday night
Saturday morn
I'm sitting in the dining room
Feeling like I'm torn

No one to help, no one to save
I seem to be without cause
I'm paralyzed by the TV waves
Surrounded by vacant walls

I should be in bed, but still I sit here
I see the shed light, but know not to fear

The cat sits and meows at me
He sure is a pain sometimes
I wish I could make him see
That sometimes time is mine

Randomness in every sense
Boredom creeps and moans
Building a metaphorical fence
For which I feel alone

Blue and red and black and white
The shades that fade from the tube
The commercials are such a sight
As the fly begins to move

The cat sits on the brick wall
His notion that he is king
His clumsiness will make him fall
He hears a noise and starts to spring

A king in his mind
A wimp he really is
But he's gentle and kind
His life is only his

Japanese names I cannot recall
Are fighting on my TV screen
I should grab the remote, but then I stall
As I drink another dose of caffeine

12: 48 and still in this chair
Bed calls but I ignore
Is there a reason I should care
Why this night was such a bore