deepundergroundpoetry.com
TORPOR SKY
Early morning, no later I would wake
Nearly tripped, furniture’s out of place
The sun barely kissed the tree-line
Steaming coffee for the cold inside
There’s your crooked picture on the wall
You were five, and I wasn’t nearly bald
I’d check the mail if there ever was
But now it’s time to wait for the bus
Wrote a name
To shelter the flame
When the world is in pain
Credit me
For this final scene
In pointless reverie
I know it’s Winter now, the ash piles up
And the liquid turns stale in my cup
The heat is broken and my home’s not wired
All of a sudden, now I grow tired
Think I’ll sleep before the sun goes dark
Or walk through the night, to the park
I can’t remember where I left my mask
I can see tomorrow through my empty flask
Wrote a name
To shelter the flame
When the world is in pain
Credit me
For this final scene
In pointless reverie
Wonder why
That I could fly
Only when I’d lost the sky
I will try
To keep it alive
Only once it died
Published 8th Nov 2016
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Anonymous
- Edited 27th Dec 2019 12:45pm
9th Nov 2016 6:31am
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