My life revolves around survival and making it threw the day.
The nights are cold and I shiver in my blanket trying to keep warm.
I rub my hands together and breathe as if I’m blowing out fire.
I cuddle with my blanket as if it were my love.
I watch the window for that one lucky star and I hope it appears in the sky.
One night out of 10 I see the lucky star and I wish for the day you’ll come home.
I watch for the sky to turn gray and the rain pours down on this average sunny day.
The night are cold my nightmares don’t leave and the sun never comes up.
The days are so boring with nothing to do and the average guy wakes up and goes out.
I stay home alone and wonder if ill make it threw tonight.
The nights are still cold without you here to hold me tight, the window is open and the light are out but the night still creaks and the dogs still bark and the sirens still run but I still dream about the day you’ll come home, and that day wont be a dream anymore it’ll be my reality.
Comments about this poem (My life by matt dahan )
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