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It�s late and I�ve been smoking all day, I would normally be sleepy by now, but the rest I had earlier managed to subdue me, and leave me renovated for the night. Plus I�m used to being on the phone right now. So maybe I�m afraid to sleep incase she rings. Either way, I can�t sleep and so decided to write instead.
What I�ve written aren�t what I�d consider poems, they are more brief thoughts captured within a few lines. They don�t really make much sense, but then again, thoughts usually don�t. I know if I spent long and hard enough on them then I could probably make something worth reading, but anyway. Here they are. I�ve decided not to title them because they are not proper pieces.
This one is the main entry, it revolves around the idea of a dream I had. This dream is actually quite true, and was more terrifying than what I have written.
I saw you again, in my dreams last night.
I tried to call your name aloud,
But you just turned away in freight.
I don�t know why you did it,
It hurts me now to think about,
But the fact I got to see your smile
Makes it all all right.
Perhaps its fear that plagues my soul,
That turns my body cold,
That makes me feel so sad and lonely
When you�re not with me
Here to hold.
The dream soon changed, the sky a storm,
I fell weak on my knees, my heart felt torn.
I called once more, again in vain,
I pleaded, �Tell me you feel the same.�
But to no prevail, no answer came.
The sky was falling down on me,
Lightning flashed above my eyes,
The water fell like tears around me,
In this, the event of my demise.
If I were to chase you,
What difference would it make?
If I were to call you every night,
To say how good you are and great,
What difference would it make?
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Maybe this will numb the pain,
Or maybe it�s the cause.
Either way I try in vain,
To not aggravate the sores.
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Life is lost without you,
No direction seems to bare my calling,
Within my dreams I see your face,
Yet my bodies slowly falling.
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This next one I know I�m going to revise sometime soon, because I can see potential in it. It�s called the snowman.
Tranquil tears for a snowman in summer,
Waiting for demise,
Helpless he stands
With blood stained hands,
Below a reaper in disguise.
Again the snowman tries in vain,
To escape his lonely death,
But the sun shines down
Onto his crown.
He�s weakening, short of breath.
The time is almost up,
He thinks to himself; �Its near�.
Why bother fighting any longer?
When the end is surely here.
Well anyway, thanks for spending some time to read these, and hopefully give some feedback.