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At the end of the day, When the lights are turned low And the loudest sound is the tick. tick. tick. tick. tick. Of the clock, Or the slight rumble of an occasional car Passing by on its way to some destination unknown, Here, I am left alone with my thoughts. I sort through bits of the day's conversations, Playing back some, Repeating them over and over in my mind. I think about what I would have said, Should have said, If I had had the time, Memorizing what I will say Next time, And wonder where my thoughts will go At tomorrow's end. 
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