Nightmare Poetry
it was yesterday.
four o'clock in the morning and I woke up.
was convulsing with words.
still lying and though scared
I thought how beautiful they would be
all those words together.
but when i got up later
they were all gone.
at that time they seemed to make sense.
poetic sense.
but they are already gone.
maybe they appeared
to drown some nightmare.
a bad dream
in which the choked words screamed:
look at us here,
struggling to make us poetry.
Copyright © Marco Chies | Year Posted 2022
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