Typing Hands
AddThis Social Bookmark Button
The Withered Christmas Pine


   A hundred ways and each in vain
  And youíd never grasp the agonies
  Of an old good friend
  You have never felt the pain
  It hurtsÖ
  It does, I swear
  More than a wound, a blow
  Iím off; today I close my eyes forever
  Sorry my dear, itís all talking nonsense
  When you expect things on the other side
  And Iím weeping my tears in vain
  Yesterday I was dawn,
  Brooding over a thousand unhappy things
  My loneliness and your being away
  Far and away
  Over the seas
  Where bird fly the other way up
  And Iím still here, locked up
  Lonely, deep inside
  The chocolate cake and the coffee
  Make me sick
  The vanilla ice cream gives me a blow
  I do not smoke, neither drink
  I try to sleep, but even that doesnít work
  Just a trick
  Listening to music
  Unheard melodies
  Unheard and unspoken agonies
  Of the only one that matters
  Always shut before my eyes
  And you guess Iím having fun
  Christmas time and the pine tree
  Withered and empty
  Christmas and the pile of snow
  Playing with some fellows in the park
  Gives me a blow
  Christmas time and youíre away
  Guess you never ever come back again
  And I have to cherish my dreams in vain

Review or comment on The Withered Christmas Pine -






Beautiful poem, Marjan. Written from the heart ... one can feel the pain of the protagonist.                                                                                                                                                                                     -  Annie  10/11/08


Other Poems by Marjan:

Home > Your Page > The Withered Christmas Pine


Web www.word-mart.com
Copyright © 2006-2008 Word-Mart.com. All rights reserved.