I Know From my Bed
by Michael Lee Johnson
Sometimes I feel
like a sad sack-
a worn out old man
with clown facial wrinkles.
I know when I reflect,
stare out my window
at the snow falling
from my bed,
my back to yours,
reflecting on my pain-
ignoring yours-
I isolate your love,
lose your touch
to another-
forgetting,
it is our bed,
not mine,
that I lie in.
Michael Lee Johnson
1531 W Irving Park Rd, 212C
Itasca, Illinois USA 60143-1542
promomanusa()gmail.com
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Вера Полозкова – Это не прихоть, это не блажь
- Come Gather Round Me, Parnellites by William Butler Yeats
- Владимир Высоцкий – Это вовсе не френч-канкан
- John Anderson by Robert Burns
- Security by William Stafford
- Юргис Балтрушайтис – Перевал
- Hawk Roosting by Ted Hughes
- To a Childless Woman by Siegfried Sassoon
- Sonnet Viii
- The Looking-Glass. : on Mrs. Pulteney poem – Alexander Pope
- Heal Your Broken Heart With Heart Touching Poems
- Михаил Кузмин – В густом лесу мы дождь пережидали
- Ольга Берггольц – Озерный край
- My Words Embrace by Mary Etta Metcalf
- The Woodlands by William Barnes
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
