The nights that sleep escaped me,
I'd study your sleeping face
For once I stared at every line,
I now stare into space
My body lays so still,
My mind races too fast,
Worries of the future,
Running from the past
The ticking of the clock,
Rain tapping on the glass,
Just another early night
Becomes a kind of farce
Conscious of my breathing,
Conscious of the pain
Conscious of how life
Won't be the same again
Eyelids getting heavy,
Heavy as my heart
Scared about the ending
Scared to make a start
And as the night surrounds me
I feel comfort in its state
I wish it had been sooner
I embraced it too late
YOU ARE READING
Little Whispers
PoetryA collection of poetic prose from the depths of a troubled mind *All images are reproduced from Wordpress Media Gallery
