Mid- afternoon shadows, casting onto cheaply painted walls,
Have always given me the doldrums
A depression really, that doesn't lift
Till the sun finally sets
Then it's merely a despondency
that starts to slowly relent
Much after Mid- night
Then I can start to sleep until,
The next day when it starts all over again.
The reason nothing WORTHWHILE gets done
I like to think.
Polby Saves
Copyright © 1996-Present
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem