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Poem

There's no minute in the day
that I don't think about her;
I've been bewitched
by eyes that hold
their spell on me...
being away from her
is endless despair.

Controlling my madness
is not an easy task,
it's wearing a mask
and make believe I'm fine;
it could be a warning of jealousy...
something I'm not aware of: unless
I look inside myself and dive
in the waters of doubt asking for mercy,
hoping they won't confine...
and leave me without breath,
expecting the arrival of death!

I concentrate on my work,
but it doesn't help a bit,
my glance is stuck on the clock:
time stands still and makes me angry;
I try not to distracted myself
from what I'm doing, 
I might as well be deaf
not hear her calling,
not seeing her happy smile... 
ah, that's a horrible feeling!
I should get away from here and be
be in those arms all the while! 

Controlling my madness
takes deeper awareness,
that indisputable trust
in faithfulness that I doubt a lot;
controlling my madness
is painting a gray sky in blue shades,
but underneath it shows gloominess...
no, nobody can change it's mood of sadness!

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