‘Can I help you?’ asked the man

    Setting his half moon specs to rights;

Peering up and down the street

    But there was no one in his sights:

He’d heard the knocker pounding clear

    ‘Is anybody there?’ he said.

But clearly there was no one there

    He shrugged, bemused, and scratched his head

A breath of wind brushed past his face

    And flotsam fluttered by the drain

The night lay damp on window ledge

    While moonlight shimmered on the pane

He turned to wander back inside

    A single thought besieged his mind,

Could it be? He dared not hope

    A promise kept, t’which he was blind?

He closed the door against the night

    A shiver shook him to the core

He’d settled in his lonely chair

    When he heard that pounding beat once more

Again, he rose to peer outside

    But all he saw were rustling trees

‘Hello!’ he cried ‘For whom do you seek?

    Should I come forth on bended knees?’

But ‘neath the starred and leafy sky

    No utterance or response occurred

Within his ear the silence roared

    Within his heart no sound was heard

The man resumed his lonely place

    Amid the dust and cobwebs dense

His ears turned deaf to iron on stone

    His heart grown numb to recompense.

As a stand alone poem, it is what ever you want it to be.

It is also however a relevant accolade to...

The Listeners by Walter de la Mare -  http://www.bartleby.com/103/86.html