The SandmanA Poem by Veronica DiMarco
I can hear the whispers beneath the walls;
Like shifting winds they toss the leaves. I can hear the water dripping from the bathroom faucet; Like a drop of rain that hit the roof tops in a slow motion. I can hear the clock ticking every second, hour after hour; Like waiting earnestly for a pleasant time to see the sun. Sleep. Where is it now? The Sandman that comes every night, where is he? He has not come but where else to follow his plight. Has he forgotten me, when things have turned out right? The songs he sing that make me feel alright. Lying awake; I wait for him to come. My dreams interrupted from my silent cries. The torment inside my head like clanging pots and pans. Incapable of closing my tired eyes. Twisting and turning to get a good night's rest. To my demise, a failing grace. Subconsciously active An enmity I'd like to negate. My discouragement, My fear, My enemy Insomnia, I'd like to kill.
© 2013 Veronica DiMarcoReviews
|
Stats
165 Views
3 Reviews Added on November 23, 2013 Last Updated on November 23, 2013 AuthorVeronica DiMarcoPhilippinesAboutMy Life. I write. I feel. I love. I pained. I heal. I am silent, I want to be loud. I open my eyes, my mind and my heart to the focal of my literature. My sanity is your insani.. more..Writing
|