Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2017
It’s only ten minutes each day
Not exactly, who keeps count
But it’s always too fast for me
The changing colors of the sky
It’s always dark beneath my feet
That’s the part that lasts too long
Still there’s tomorrow’s sleepy eyes

Even broken glass reflects
Our nature exists, scarred as it is
Still the grand gesture must be made
And if you think it’s all too much
Then tell me why you sleep at night
What turns you on anymore
If not your dreams talking to you

The distance between us, it seems
Is as far as the sun is from me
I can accept my place, it’s beautiful
How can I say anything different?
I don’t know where to begin
If I’m not in my knowing, so small
How would I know your worth to me?

I wonder if I am the one to make you cry
Is that the moment that I made you feel
Is it the memory that you want to forget
I wanted you to laugh out loud
And whisper my name like a shell
When you stop pretending with me
We can live the stories I can only make up
Mark Lecuona
Written by
Mark Lecuona
179
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems