Fleeting impressions of dreaming things
Each night I lie waiting for sleep to bring
Rest for me as I lie still
I walk again as in my life's drill
Though corridors of my life
Wandering in thoughts so rife
Who would have thought this
Do I have again to suffer again this rift
Then sleep comes and it's gone again
The next night I see it as it plays to its end.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem