Insanely enough my enemy is my bed,
I lay and close my eyes and it puts ur pictures in my head,
Does it want me asleep, or it wants me awake?
Coz at times I drift to sleep and at times I see dawn break.
The way I remember you are still the same,
And acknowledging this I feel insane,
Truth be told, there's no stand I hold,
Memories taste better like the wine when it's old,
Words form in head, out comes a sigh,
And to get to sleep, I'll need to get high,
Tomorrow when I gain senses, my faith will take a leap,
Doesn't matter, by dark, your thoughts are gonna creep....
~Vicious circle
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely piece of poetry, well articulated and nicely penned. I like the line - MEMORIES TASTE BETTER LIKE THE WINE WHEN IT'S OLD. A good poem indeed. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.