Night

a very small candle by the bedside,
a stack of books that whisper and moan.
a radio i forget to turn on,
and an alarm clock that i hate...

dirty clothes sorted and stacked
like dreams that didnt go well.
a pack of Marlboro's, a couple old hats...
a window that leaks an icy breeze...

my old guitar and a rifle in the corner,
a few prayers that never got said.
your pillow haunted and cold...
i dont want to sleep alone.

poem by Eric CockrellReport problemRelated quotes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Share
 
 
This text contains a mistake
This text is duplicate
The author of this text is another person
Another problem

More info, if necessary

Your name

Your e-mail