day 13 poetry:

tender
was the night as he
fell from his bed.

he cried
but realised
he was alone;
alone in his room
and alone in this house.

he got up
and wiped his eyes
like a child who's lost
its fight,
and went back to bed,

alone in his room,
and alone in this house --
his home that he had bought.

---

prose (here)