The hollow man slept,
In a room blackened by time.
A dim lamp shone in a corner,
Penetrating the darkness,
Through black grime of thoughts,
The thoughts within the mind of a boy,
Who knelt at the foot of the bed.
The boy wept and shook his head,
"Can it be true that my father is dead"?
Who is the Hollow Man in the darkness? Is it me or my Father?... who when I wrote this was alive, but is now no longer with us....another early poem wrestling with death and darkness.