12.12.2004
The Nights
It is the nights I cannot bear.
The sunlight of the daytime hours,
Weak and wintry as it may be,
Has sufficient prospects in its power
To distract me from my misery.
But night falls early now,
As fleeting joy falls to despair,
And another sleepless night awaits me.
I'm so tired of this stale, mournful air.
So I'm drinking wine out of the bottle,
Dropping Kleenex on the floor,
Wallowing in sad songs and morbid poetry.
Too recently I saw this place before.
Time does not heal anything,
Was the only lesson learned while there.
Amnesia is the only cure.
And it's the nights I cannot bear.
The sunlight of the daytime hours,
Weak and wintry as it may be,
Has sufficient prospects in its power
To distract me from my misery.
But night falls early now,
As fleeting joy falls to despair,
And another sleepless night awaits me.
I'm so tired of this stale, mournful air.
So I'm drinking wine out of the bottle,
Dropping Kleenex on the floor,
Wallowing in sad songs and morbid poetry.
Too recently I saw this place before.
Time does not heal anything,
Was the only lesson learned while there.
Amnesia is the only cure.
And it's the nights I cannot bear.
Labels: poetry
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