The
time of day ticks by slowly, drawing in the night,
And
undercover is a brightness plight,
As
I am lethargic and restless –
Superficially
painless.
My
smiles and cheeriness fade into a space,
Where
loneliness picks up its pace,
To
draw on my intellect,
With
a mind to dissect.
I
am twisted in two, this way or that way,
Indecisive
affray to play or decay,
And
as I rot in thoughtfulness,
In
comes the darkness.
I
have to look before I leap, and under the sheet
I
sleep, and bleat and bleat and bleat,
And
as the hours are stolen away,
I
live to fight another day.
©
Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017
A re-edited piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew.
Very honest and wonderfully written. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteYvonne.
Greetings Yvonne. Thank you for your kind comment, it is greatly appreciated. Blessings to you. Love love, Andrew.
DeleteFastidious respond in return of this question with firm arguments
ReplyDeleteand describing all concerning that.
Greetings. Thank you for your kind words, they are warmly received. Blessings to you. Love love, Andrew.
DeleteYour poem reminds me of sleepless nights when I couldn't quiet my brain. Well done, Andrew!
ReplyDeleteThank you my friend, for your kind words. Glad you liked it. Blessings to you. Love love, Andrew.
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