*bow*
Just me in a screen
In a quiet home
Of poem about nights and days
I write in this poem
An endless routine
Of meaningless proportions
No flow to break
No tasks for abortions
This is my time
This is my phase
This is me
In nights and days.
The nights, I face boredom
In this suburban cage
The days, I face tension
An endless phase
The nights, I dream
To go out to the city
The days, it's a daymare
Improbable to do, 's a pity
The nights, I'm as lightning
Instincts for a dance
The days, I feel tired
In a zombie trance
At nights I feel restless
And I don't know why?
The days I urge the need to
But I work on by
The nights, my mind is empty
So much to waste
The days, relaxed and rushed
No time to haste...
Some nights I wander
To the empty bulblit streets
Everyday I just want to
Snuggle in my bedsheets
And I just feel so bored
In a nightly way
And I can feel the rush
In every single day
And that was it
Nothing more
Not a little bit
To explore
About the things
I do on ways
In this poem
Of my nights and days.
Boring Nights, Tense Days
*bow*
