I've over done it again,
too much coffee
won't sleep good tonight,
and the poems will
keep coming on tap,
but won't do any good,
no matter how many attempts
are made,
and the dreams will be
mere treats, or tests,
of what should have dreamt
itself up,
and I will no doubt
meet a few of you,
whom pave the dark
pathway of great poet light,
and disturbances
of strangers lamenting,
my lost chances,
and hellish torments
of work,
and places photographed
when your not really looking,
playing like a demented DVD,
and I will stand there
impish in this dream world,
consternated,
viewing the old plates,
while something tries to
trap me, haunted stranger
once a friend!
did you snap,
who snapped?
your not in here...
I'm sorry, I really am...
like what happened?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem