It is two o’clock in the morning
And you are not asleep yet
Disturbed you confessed
About something
This love
This love that has disappointed you
To my surprise
Is it you
Is it really you hidden?
Buried beneath my words
You ask me to tell you honestly
We are friends
We do not intend to hurt
I tell you then it is not you
It is never you it will never be you
Now sleep
It is getting very late
You need to rest you are in pain
You need to dream the sweetest dream
In my country it is still an afternoon
We have coffee
The sun begins to set
There is no anger here there is no disappointment
About love or any other feeling
I am reminded though
Again I have to tell you
That which angers you conquers you.
Dinner is served, faraway you must be asleep.
I do not dine alone. We still have jokes to tell.
Some more poems to write, this time, perhaps sadder.
No comments:
Post a Comment