Routine(?) Poem by Eduard Alexandru Popescu

When I wake up, everyday
I look slightly to the left
And everytime I almost say:
'Mornin' darling, how'd you slept? '

When I make tea, I always think
'Why there are two cups, are they in pairs? '
On the verandah where I sit and drink
There are still two old, creaky chairs

There's a table which the door opposes
And I cannot seem to remember
For who are all those roses
And the letters which read 'Forever..'?

I like to think it's all in my tired head
Yet I never seem to know
Why there are two shadows in my bed
When I'm supposed to be alone?