At night we do not sleep
I walk in the dream of another.
With gentle fingers, I turn it gently
And I quietly dissolve my fist.
I'm kissing my cold forehead
And with wrinkles I wipe wrinkles.
With love I lightly caress my hair
And the joy that I was, I'm going.
If you fall asleep then, someone is calling
He tends to watch over me.
With my own line I get used to it
And we know about happiness we were born.

Poetry by Ann Wood The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 562 times
Written on 2017-08-09 at 15:08

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