Not much more

Sitting here with morning coffee and my dog of red.
Not much more I think can be said.
Surrounded by poverty of heart and soul,
I can take only so much, lonely I'm afraid,
is taking its toll.
Never been this close to just letting go.
The cold outside seems to have touched my heart.
It's not who I am, hate playing the part
Not much more I think can be said,
sitting here with my friend the dog of red.