Sunday Carolina
My life’s apart
My toes I’d touch
But I could do
Without the rush
Midnight calls
Again Liquor’s saved my day
I see you not
I guess I’ve lost my way
Morning comes
My coffee’s stale
Let us
Check the mail
The door bell rings
T-shirt with no jeans
No class today
Wide awake
And I might not
Last the wait
This evenings cloud
Have shaken my doubts
I wonder
If I’ll ever make it out
Home from work
Dreary eyes
I lost my paintbrush
In my shirt
I’ve spoken soft
Worded cloth
But my quill
Has written dry
And to my dreams
My days
Might not say goodnight
Lost my wave
Astray in change
There’s no tempo in this trap
I am in dire need of a nap
"Her songs after brunch"
Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2009
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