A tug and turn at night,
A slow recovery from the cold light
When the pains the same,
But the hands have changed
What's a person to turn to,
A friend or stranger, both the same
Spoken in discreet,
The quite houses scream all the louder
Tears that wash my face,
And tears that give the pain more taste,
Betray me now my body,
Is all that I am a waste.
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Poems of a Clouded Mind
ŞiirLost in the insignificance of life and pondering escape, the selections of poems depict the frustrations, ideas and ideals, the saddest moments and exhilarating experiences.
