Before Bedtime
Sitting in my old armchair
By the open loggia door
Am I here, or back there
Where I’ve been before?
In the stilllness of the night
Sounds of racing cars
Mingle with the distant light
Of the faded stars
I look out into the dark
Little lights around
Cannot put on me the mark
Of this foreign bound
Its a saddest joke, this land
Not the thing I own
And I clearly understand
This is not my home
Looking at the trees below
See the branches sway
“Soon to bed we have to go”
Is that what you say?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
