All of a sudden, without rhyme or reason
I had a yearning a night or two ago
for a woman I've never met in person;
thus I whispered to myself before bed:
Tell her I miss her so sadly bad
and again I said that when I awoke
without knowing to whom I spoke
whether to God, or to my Ego
How came I to be such, then I said,
to be such a mad deadhead
as to long, to yearn, to pine
for a woman who is not mine
and doesn't even know I'm here;
even so, to miss her is the most
intimate emotion I will hold dear
in my heart dead almost
YOU ARE READING
Ralinsha
Non-FictionIt started on the eleventh day of the third moon, the day before my thirty-eighth sun, this year. Having seen her on the box days or weeks earlier, it occured to me that particular day to write a poem about her, not knowing whence and how the fancy...
