Pyjama days of being ill
with closed curtains
thinking of being free
with closed curtains
enjoying each other
Being ill is an ardent desire
for sparkling energy
sunlit rooms
never sleep again
sing, laugh, feed
one another tirelessly
and suffer at the most
from the desire
to be immortal
with friends
Nice and lively. If you give me permission i can try to fit this poem into a 1 2 3 format just for fun. It would be fun pun intended. What say you?