You and me,
here with no one else;
together,
with nowhere else to be;
nothing to see,
other than each other’s eyes;
nothing to feel,
other than our warm embrace;
nothing to do,
but press our lips together
and be
who we used to be.
Tag: poetry
Morning’s sense of humour
I read,
seeing not believing,
in search of meaning,
myself reflected through stories,
my mind wonders and dreams.
I write in my diary,
not knowing what I think,
how I feel or what to say,
but words appear,
vicariously.
I walk,
but the woods offer no shelter.
Ghosts appear
to taunt me – humour me!
Self-indulgence is my sweet tooth.
The future exists at dawn,
and by dusk I see myself.
As I reflect in the mirror,
all I see are blemishes
that reveal nothing new.
I’ll dream tonight,
distorting memory,
and because of morning’s sense of humour,
I’ll never forget
where I am.
All the while never knowing
who I am.
I tried thinking of the word
I tried thinking of the word,
but none came to mind.
I tried thinking about what to do,
but I had no idea.
I was trying to dream,
but my sleep was too deep.
The moment passes me by,
but my memory couldn’t grasp it.
I tried looking outside for answers,
but it shared no clues.
I closed my eyes,
but there was nothing to see.
I tried thinking out loud,
but I had the wrong tone of voice.
If only the words came out right,
I would understand.
Lewis Walddren 