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paul-thomas-galballyPoems
As I fell upstairs last evening I don't know why, i couldn't Stand up straight, but I wasn't drunk I was crashing around, like the lost soul That I seem to have become A ghost who lives in between this life And an early grave Full of sorrow Full of pain An absence of dust in an un-aired room a shade against the lighted window at evening I only pay attention to My dreams now However mundane Or strange they are My life is too full of hurting to contemplate much What has become of me? I cannot say for I do not know Only that I am Bereft of hope And there are things worse than death I see others' living and despair That I will ever know such things Again.
0
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
As I fell upstairs
As I fell upstairs last evening I don't know why, i couldn't Stand up straight, but I wasn't drunk I was crashing around, like the lost soul That I seem to have become A ghost who lives in between this life And an early grave Full of sorrow Full of pain An absence of dust in an un-aired room a shade against the lighted window at evening I only pay attention to My dreams now However mundane Or strange they are My life is too full of hurting to contemplate much What has become of me? I cannot say for I do not know Only that I am Bereft of hope And there are things worse than death I see others' living and despair That I will ever know such things Again.
No notes, just hurt.
paul-thomas-galbally
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paul-thomas-galbally
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
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