This moment
Dreaming of you with the break of dawn
And the waking of the moon
Like a disease, you spread through me
Haunting my brain with thoughts of you
Wanting to say so much
But I can’t form the words
My voice is gone
I hesitate, lost in the seconds of time
Hoping to see you again
And on that day, I forget everything except you and me
Nothing else matters
Because I know that this moment was ours.
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Sunset | 0 | 08/05/2009 |
| Insomnia | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
| His Goddess | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
| A Willow Tree | 1 | 07/13/2009 |
| Shadows | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
| This moment | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
| People always leave... | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
| Lying on the Floor | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
| Russian Roulette | 0 | 07/13/2009 |
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