Writing

Its Raskolnikov

In my bed I think of what to do next,

I think,'Maybe I'll write',

Maybe about the test of life,

Maybe of my recent strife,

Maybe of my future wife!

Could I write of a laugh?

Could I describe my human past?

Could I describe the look in her eyes?

Could I try to find a different path?

 

Maybe if I took a while,

Maybe then I wouldn't cry,

But that's not what I want,

I have to tell of my poetry,

Of what's been happening on the inside!

 

I know I may be a bit annoying,

Please let me stay a while,

Love me for an hour of your day,

I'll make it worth your while,

 

I'll be on my bed and start thinking,

Maybe I'll stop writing,

Maybe I'll start crying,

Maybe I'll start dying,

Maybe I'll laugh with my friends,

Maybe I'll share this moment with the love of my life!

Maybe,

 

I think I'll keep going,

Keep writing,

It's the outlet to my life,

But I must also live it like a king,

I must have my family, 

I'll keep writing,

But without other life,

I'll just go on dying,

So instead I choose flying with a pen,

I love this life!

 

 

  • Author: Raskolnikov (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 22nd, 2017 11:38
  • Comment from author about the poem: Sometimes writing is poking in the dark.
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 22
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Comments1

  • FredPeyer

    Nicely penned, I too love this life!



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