Poetry For Everyday People
Focal Point
Two a.m.
sleeping on my side,
trying to avoid
the coils of a bed
always trying to stab me,
I find a spot,
but I can't see the moon
out the window, and I
adjust, find the moon,
find the coil, sharp,
stabbing my side,
as a forgotten memory
that wants remembered,
as young lovers
leaving their marks
on each others necks,
I'll take the pain
for the moon,
it's an old
old
friend,
and I
need to sleep
within the realm
of familiarity,
regardless.
sleeping on my side,
trying to avoid
the coils of a bed
always trying to stab me,
I find a spot,
but I can't see the moon
out the window, and I
adjust, find the moon,
find the coil, sharp,
stabbing my side,
as a forgotten memory
that wants remembered,
as young lovers
leaving their marks
on each others necks,
I'll take the pain
for the moon,
it's an old
old
friend,
and I
need to sleep
within the realm
of familiarity,
regardless.
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Focal Point
Focal Point