Ill: Kkc


They can't really expect me
to get to sleep this hour
It's so much all to early
to ever fall asleep

I lie awake and think of
what I will never have
to hold or to be loved by
another short goodbye

I walk the stairs so quiet
to smoke a cigarette
I want to think
and think again
What more I cannot get

They can't really expect me
I blew here by the wind
I followed in the undertow
of that viking queen

I don't know what I do here
or why I came along
It might have been the calling
of some unwritten song

Or maybe all the words I
have not already found
The time is also coming up
for not to be around

The ancient pit is waiting
I might be under stress
to find that final answer
away from all this mess
away from all the chances
the tired ballroom dances
away from what is lacking
in a life

Poetry by PapaFahr The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 568 times
Written on 2015-09-17 at 00:32

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