"One Last Dinner"

Last chance ruined type of poem

Thin glass breaks at my feet,

hot liquid begins to evaporate,

the last bird is chirping in the distance.

A gray leaf falls to the cold winter ground,

a man slowly walks past with a grim eye,

the crunch of the snow echoes through the night.

One street light lights the dim corridors,

a lonely table illuminated by just a lamp,

two dinner plates set.

The grim eyes stare at an empty chair,

a silent prayer is said with doubt,

dead hope that she will arrive for this meal.

The food's steam fades away as it grows cold,

both eyes closed the man releases his breath,

she won't come to dinner.