It’s late Friday night
I am ready for bed
As I think about you
Red wine jogs inside my head
You have all the answers
The questions are known
Never to be revealed
As I wait her alone
True words don’t come
I ponder here in vain
It’s all that I have
With so much pain
Someday is now which I don’t need
Longing for changes so that I may breathe
Happiness on the run, somberness take its turn
As nine percent proof makes my brain numb
One more damn sip
To change the score
No one is watching
So I pray once more
But my words turn to vapor
Like fog in the air
Never to be heard
By anyone who cares
Still I must try
Long as there is hope
Still I must cry
It helps me to cope
Now living this way in self pity mode
One might say time is the key
The key that I control
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem