Sunday Night Blues
Scared to sleep,
I’m afraid I may stop breathing
Scared to sleep,
afraid someone next to me may stop breathin’
When I’m finally asleep
I’m paralysed
Try to call out for help,
but I’m asleep,
you can’t hear my cries
Eyes are open. I’m awake
Have I been asleep at all, was it a dream or real?
I can already feel Monday morning blues getting closer to me,
Creeping like a ghost I can’t see
the world,
its already begining to awake
Give me that privilidge
One last look,
tired eyes
finally...
<Deleted User> (4281)
Wed 30th Apr 2008 07:22
Hello, Richard
Oh, I do not like Mondays!
I see the dislike in your poem as well. It is hard too get the sleep when relaxing over the weekend. I like the reality poem. Except the line that you were scared not to be awake anymore because of stop breathing, well that is a dark line in your poetry.
The poem is nice.
Thank you,
Zuzanna