Five Minute Poetry ~Disjointed~

My writing muscles are weak

Aching in my sleep

Looking glass

Sparkles never last

Bubbles pop

flat dreams turn

colorless

Rhythm missing dirge

seeps up from the past

in an empty glass

appearing real

these fantasies turn

Were you here?

Never can I say I didn’t try

to remind myself not to cry

As Shakespeare words play upon

my dreams through the cracks

of my mind,

to love and die

a midnight dreary

comes not my knight to

dry my eyes

Concubines of time between dry pages

Words slip past

stop the madness

get out of the future

relax into the now

too much dreaming

too much regretting

too much heart pounding believing.

 

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Author: iola reneau

I am a writer and sometimes author.

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